L'amour Fou
by A.L.S.O
Summary: (Fin!)Another fic where Satine doesn't die, but this one is different. Both Satine and Christian plan to start their lives over, but end up in the same town, and find themselves falling in love all over again. Only...Christian doesn't know it's Satine.
1. A New Beginning

**L'amour Fou**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter I - A New Beginning

Christian sighed, pulling the bundle in his arms closer to his chest. If this was a new beginning, it certainly didn't seem like a clear slate, a fresh start, with all the old memories consuming him until his heart ached. The wind blew harder and Christian pulled his coat collar up closer around him and began to head to his room on the ferry; the sky was darkening with rain clouds and the weather was growing bitter cold. What a day to start a new life.

In his cabin, he placed the bundle on the bed and pulled the blankets off, revealing a blue-eyed black-haired five-month old baby. Amour was her name, and she was the first and only child of Satine.

Christian filled the sink with tepid water and pulled off Amour's dress, placing her gently into the sink and cleaning her softly with a washcloth.

He yawned, not even knowing what time it was. He had lost track of all time the day Harold Zidler announced Satine had died of Tuberculosis in the middle of the night. But if only she had, he thought sarcastically, remembering when Zidler knocked at his door and presented him with his daughter. He had revealed to Christian that Satine hadn't died at all, that it had been a scam to keep anyone knowing about her being pregnant, but that now she really was finally gone...she had died during the delivery and Amour had no one but her father. But Christian had been too dumbfounded to remember Zidler was a sneaky, black-hearted man....

Christian had been happy to have his daughter, though. He had been alone, pitying himself and drowning his sorrows in dozens of bottles of Absinthe. But he knew he had to take responsibility, and took Amour to Nantes, where he got a job at the weekly newspaper. They stayed there for only five months until Christian decided he needed to stop mourning and to get away from France once and for all, and here he was, on a ferry to England.

He was brought sharply back to reality when a clock on the wall stroke seven o'clock, and he lifted Amour out of the water, wrapping her with a towel. He kissed her vulnerable forehead and placed her on the bed, slipping clean pajamas on her shivering her body.

"Is that better, darling?" he whispered, scooping her up in his arms and kissing her again. "It will be okay soon, we'll be in England in a week and we'll get a nice house and buy some new warm blankets...would you like that? And I'll buy you some toys and clothes...everything will be much better, I promise you that."

Christian laid her down on the bed and slipped off his jacked and shoes, crawling in beside his small daughter. He pulled the covers up and tucked them tightly around both of them, putting his arm around Amour's gentle body and getting closer.

A new beginning, a new start for Christian James and yet things were exactly the same as they had been the past months. His eyes closed sleepily and the thoughts of the past scattered as sleep overcame him and he fell into a deep doze.

The next morning was as gray and dull as the last, and the rain poured down endlessly. Amour was silent the whole night, as she was on most nights, but woke up early with a small cry. They went down to the Wreck Hall and ate a small breakfast, Christian munching on toast while feeding Amour warm milk. Then back in the cabin Christian would entertain his daughter with old toys, his singing, and sometimes read to her; then the second meal would come, entertainment, dinner, a walk on the deck followed by a bath, and finally sleep.

So the days passed for six more until they finally awoke one morning to a knock on their door and a deep voice saying, "Ten minutes until arrival, sir." Christian stretched and yawned, standing to pack. He got all of their belongings and placed them into a suitcase, put his typewriter in its case, then pulled out the basket cushioned with blankets. Amour started making soft baby noises announcing she was awake, and Christian picked her up and put her in the basket.

"Today's the day," Christian sang softly, "when dreaming ends."

He took his suitcase and typewriter in one hand and the basket in the other, then left his room and closed the door behind him. His chest swelled with pride as he walked down the hall and a slight smiled played at his lips; this was it, this was his new beginning, it was all officially starting today.

With the little bit of money that he had and with his daughter by his side, he knew he could do everything right if he tried. They were father and daughter, and together they could accomplish anything.

Christian and Amour took a train to Bedford, the town they would be living in, and immediately began to look for a place to stay. It was almost too easy, because by noon they had found a shop with an apartment above it and knocked on the landlord's door to see how much it was, but Christian was too happy to care.

"Hello?" she said, when Christian had knocked.

"Hello, I'm Christian James and I was wondering about the shop you were renting out?"

"Oh, yes, yes! Of course! Please, come in, would you like a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you," said Christian, setting his suitcase and typewriter outside and carrying in his daughter. "I'm just here to see about the place--"

"Oh, yes, excuse me. I'm Mrs. Gerber, Mr. James, and you're interested in the shop and apartment?" Christian nodded. "Well, together that would be one hundred pounds a month."

Christian nodded. "Good price. Is it available immediately?"

Mrs. Gerber reached down in her apron and pulled out a set of keys. "Now, if you're in a rush."

Christian laughed. "I am, actually. My daughter and I have just arrived from France and we have nowhere else to go."

"Yes, yes! Come, I will show you the place." She wobbled out of the house on her walking stick, followed by Christian and Amour, and led them next door. "This is the place," she said, unlocking the door. "It hasn't been rented out for over two decades and might be a little dusty, but I've kept it up to date. You like?"

The door creaked open and Christian stepped into the little shop, completely covered in a thick layer of dust. The two display windows were covered up with old, yellowing newspapers and the checkout counter had a filthy cash register sitting on it. The walls were covered in bookshelves, perfect for opening a bookstore, and Christian imagined in his head the shop full of hundreds of books just ready to be sold....

"This is perfect," he breathed.

"Yes, I must say I was quite fond of this place," said Mrs. Gerber. "My husband had it opened as a cafe, but I closed it down after Mr. Gerber died of a heart attack. But it is very nice, hm?"

"Oh, yes, it is," Christian agreed. "I'll take it."

"Wonderful!" she cried. "Since you are the first to rent this out in so long and since October is already halfway over, your first payment wont be due until the last of November."

"Thank you," said Christian. "Yes, thank you very much."

Christian had no trouble reopening the shop as a bookstore. He bought some pale blue and yellow paint and after some dusting and sanding, had it colorful and vibrant, almost looking like new. The whole thing was painted blue with the edges and decor yellow, and in navy above the door in large, bold letters read, "THE PENNILESS POET." The shelves were refurbished and there were five circular cases added to the center of the room, all filled with old books that had been donated by the library or townspeople, and new books he ordered from London. The display windows were set up with Christian's favorite selections of the books the store contained, either propped up or set on velvet cushions, and the glass of the windows were cleaned to perfection.

Within a month, it was opened and ready for business and customers were coming and going often. He was making good money within his first week and became known within a day. He was Christian James, an unmarried father raising his child on his own, depressed because of his past but becoming slowly happy with the way the future was presenting itself each day. Every young woman knew that he was unavailable, his heart was set on some unknown love, and everyone else knew that he was sweet, kind, charming in every way, and the perfect father anyone could ask for.

But the person most happy with the situation was Christian; the new life he was leading was as perfect as it ever could be, and between raising his daughter and controlling the shop, he was too busy to ever think about Satine for long, which only put him in a state of melancholia.

The new beginning that he had started was going along as set to plan, but good things never last forever.

It would be five more years and seven months before anything devastating would happen, however, and that would be when the supposedly dead Satine stepped off a train and into the Bedford Station with her five-year-old son, Christopher, starting a new life as well, but as Sarah James.

A/N: Tada, THE END! Or at least for the first chapter of my first story. I hope you liked it and if you don't understand something or whatever, just put it in a review and I'll write you an answer either in the A/N of the next chapter or in another review.

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

'Dunno' and that belongs to Baz

yeah, that's it.


	2. A Second Chance

**L'amour Fou**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter II - A Second Chance

Satine had a story of her own to tell; her side of the story was far from the same as Christian's. With only one glance at her daughter before she passed out in exhaustion, the doctor broke the news to her when she had recovered that her baby didn't make it. If only in her grieving had she remembered that Zidler was a sneaky and cruel man, and would do anything to pay her back for leaving the Moulin Rouge forever since she believed that the club was not a place to be raising a child. But she didn't, and after a fortnight of crying, she finally picked up the little luggage that she had, and left London. She took a train to Oxford where she resided there and adopted her son, Christopher, and stayed there working as a tailor, and a very popular one at that. For five years she held together a life completely revolving around her son and finally was fed up with it one day; she packed her bags and left, taking a train to Bedford. There she would start fresh as Sarah James.

Going to Bedford, Satine thought, was God giving her a second chance at life. A life that was connected to no sinful past or lies as vehement as pretending to be dead, one that could help her son live a better life than the one she had before. Several times she had thought about going back to Christian, but the scar was made, the damage was done, and there was no turning back. She would take the second chance and be happy with it, no questions asked on her part.

At first she was concerned someone might recognize her; it might not necessarily be a friend, but maybe a customer, someone who had visited the club, anyone who knew the Sparkling Diamond as her real self. Changing her name wasn't the slightest bit of reassurance to her, but when she looked hardly at herself in the mirror, she realized that she had changed physically so much, not even Christian himself would be able to notice her as who she really was. Her hair was much longer and incredibly straight, not to mention she had it turned black by the barber; even her eyes had become much darker than before, and the delicate structures of her face had softened so she was completely unrecognizable.

Christopher, however, was excited to leave Oxford, since he had never been out of it before. He told his mother tales of how they would get a nice big house and he would learn to ride a bike, and after school he would climb trees and eat freshly picked apples. Satine laughed at his stories, but took delight in also dreaming of the new life they could live. She laughed until her cheeks were wet with tears and she was breathless, and even then continued to hear the delightful ideas of her little boy's mind.

But things weren't how Christopher imagined. They rented out a small room in an apartment building across from a bookstore called _The Penniless Poet_, and had trouble finding a job of any sort. She helped out with minor jobs at the building she lived in and made enough money to pay her rent and put food on the table, but it still wasn't enough.

Satine felt that she was turning her second chance into a complete disaster. Nothing was going right or the way she planned, and within a week she was wishing she had never left Oxford. But a week before the day it became six years since she lost her daughter, her son came running home from school with an invitation in his hand.

"Look, Mama, look!" he yelled, waving it about. "I got a birthday invitation!"

"Oh, how exciting!" she laughed, pulling her son onto her lap and opening the paper to read it to Christopher. "Now, let's see. It says 'You are invited to Amour James's sixth birthday on the 31st of May at 1:30p.m. in the backyard of _The Penniless Poet_, directions on the back.'"

Satine stared dumbfoundedly before closing her eyes tightly; a pain was tightening her chest and a cough was tickling her throat as sweat appeared above her brow. The last name James, even though she had chosen it as her own, still brought back haunting memories to her. And Amour, love in French, reminded her of what she had shared best with her 'Penniless Poet.' She bit her lip to keep from crying at all the vehement images flashing to mind: Christian, his garret, the Moulin Rouge... She could change her name, the way she looked, completely erase her old life and start anew, but those who run off across the sea change their climate but not their mind.

She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't even noticed her son had been talking to her until he started pulling on her sleeve.

"Yes, darling, what is it?" she asked patiently.

"So can I go, Mama? Can I?"

"Oh, of course, Christopher, of course you can. But who is this Amour?"

"She's a new friend I made at school today!" he said ecstatically. "She's the only other girl in my class that can speak French, and she's real pretty, too. I like her." He giggled furiously and took a breath to continue, but gasped when something across the street caught his eye from the window. "Mama, that's her!" he yelled, pointing across the street to the bookstore.

Satine stood up and peered out the window where a little girl was jump roping outside. Her hair was messy and black, a longer replica of Christian's, and even from three stories up the clear blue of her eyes was visible, just like Satine's own had been.

"She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?" Satine whispered more to herself than her son. Would her daughter have looked like that if she hadn't died? Her heart grew heavy again but she had no time to cogitate before her son was dragging her out the door.

"Let's go say hi!" he told her, and pulled her down three flights of stairs, letting go in the middle of the street and running towards Amour, yelling, "Bonjour, Amour! Comment allez vous?"

The little girl laughed, allowing her jump rope to fall to her side, and replied with a cordial, "Tres bien, merci."

"See, Mama!" Christopher said, turning to Satine. "She can speak French, too!"

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," Amour curtsied to Satine.

Satine laughed; she certainly did have manners. "Bonjour, Amour. You certainly can speak French very well."

"I am from France," she said. "I was born in England but was brought overseas on the same day. Papa only kept me there for five months, though."

"Why would he ever want to leave France?" asked Satine conversationally. "It's a great country, you know. I was born and lived there for twenty-four years."

"That long?" Amour gaped, making Satine laugh again.

"Yes, that long," she said. "I lived in Toulouse then ran away from home when I was sixteen to Montmartre."

"That's where I was brought to Papa!" Amour interrupted.

"Your father lived in Montmartre?" Satine asked curiously.

"Of course! Would you like to hear his story? It's my favorite!"

"Sure I would, but right now I have to go cook dinner for Christopher here. How about after your birthday party you come over for some milk and cookies, okay?"

"Oui, that would be tres magnifique!" Amour said. "Au revoir!" She dragged her jump rope inside the shop, waving once more through the glass of the door before disappearing out of view.

Satine took her son's hand and led him across the street. Amour really was a sweet, and extremely courteous, little girl and that night when Satine was laying down to sleep, she sighed, knowing that even though her new life, her second chance, wasn't going so smoothly, she at least had a new friend...even if she was only six years old.

"It's always times like these," she sang, tears stinging at her eyes when she thought of how everything would be so much better had she not left Christian, "when I think of you and I wonder if you ever think of me. 'Cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong living in your precious memory...."

A/N: The end for another chapter.

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

'A Thousand Miles' and that belongs to Vanessa Carlton, I think?

yeah, that's it.

Translations:

Bonjour- hello

Comment allez vous- how are you?

Tres bien, merci- very well, thank you

Au revoir- goodbye

L'amour Fou (title)- Insane Love


	3. Birthday Mournings

L'amour Fou 

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter III - Birthday Mournings

"It's always times like these," Christian sang, tying another red balloon, "when I think of you and I wonder if you ever think of me. 'Cause everything's so wrong and I don't belong in your precious memory...."

He stepped back, admiring his work. The apple trees lining the backyard, leaning delectable over the wire fence and closing in the lawn, were decorated with brightly colored balloons floating from white strings. There was a picnic table set up with another balloon in the center and bowls of snacks around it, ready for the hungry kids to munch on. He sighed pleasantly and looked down to see his daughter hugging his leg.

"Good morning, beautiful. How do you like the yard?" he asked.

"It's beau, Papa," said Amour. 

"Merci," Christian responded with a laugh. He picked her up and spun her round and round as she laughed wildly; his heart leapt joyously at her genuine smile, making her look even more like her mother, and he kissed her on her forehead before placing her gently on the grass. "And a tres Happy Birthday to you!"

"Merci, Papa!"

"Now why don't you go get dressed in your new birthday dress?"

"Okay," she said sadly.

"What's wrong?"

"I wish Mama were here," she said quietly, playing with her father's strong fingers. "She could help me with my dress and help me put pretty ribbons in my hair."

Christian's heart broke. Hearing his daughter say something like that...he began to cry and bent down to her level whispering, "I can--can help you, can't I? Please say I can help you because I don't want that to affect you, I don't want you not having a mother affect you...." He pulled her into a hug, slipping one arm around her waist and another resting on the back of her head.

"Don't cry, Papa," Amour said soothingly, kissing her father. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I promesse, Papa. I'm sorry."

"No, it's my fault," said Christian apologetically. "I'm sorry I got so upset...I miss your Mama, too."

"Where _is_ Mama?" she asked. Several times over the past years she had asked, several times she had begged and pleaded with Christian to tell her the truth, but every time he had told her when she was older...but this time he sighed, knowing it was time

"Well," said Christian slowly. "I guess since you're six now and you're a big girl, you can learn the truth." He picked her up and sat down on the back steps to the house, placing her on his lap and smoothing out her hair. "You know the story I told you of Mama?" Amour nodded. "Well after that, your Mama went off to England, the place where I came from, but she didn't tell me. I thought that she had died--you know what die is?"

"Oui, it's where you go away to God's house and never come back, right?"

"Yes, it's just like that, and I thought she had gone to stay with God. But then this man came to my door and said that she had pretended so she could go have her daughter--"

"Why would she have to go away to have a baby?"

"Because...no one wanted her to have a baby and she didn't want people to get mad at her, especially the maharaja, you remember him? Yes, so when the man showed me the baby, my precious little Amour, they told me that you were mine and only mine forever because something went wrong after she had you, and then she really did die."

"Was it my fault?"

"No, of course not. I'm sure your Mama loved you with all her heart and misses you up in God's house so much. But she's watching you every day and she sees you growing up into a beautiful young lady, I promise you she is. She's thinking how wonderful and special you are and wishing she could tell you how much she loves you."

"Did you love Mama?"

"I did, I loved her so much and I miss her even more. She was going to be my wife some day and we were going to take you to live in a beautiful home with a dog and a nice room all to yourself, maybe get you a little sister or brother, too."

"But I do have a nice house and my own room and I do have a brother!"

"You do?" Christian asked in mock surprise. "Since when?"

"Christopher, I told you about him. The new boy at school."

"How does that make him your brother?"

"He has the same last name as us. His name is Christopher James."

"But that doesn't make him your brother."

"Why not?"

"Because unless he is your Mama's son or your Papa's son, he's not related to you."

"Oh," Amour said simply. "I feel better now...will you come help me with my hair?"

"Certainly," said Christian, pulling her up on his shoulders and piggybacking inside to the sweet sound of her laughter. 

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Amour, happy birthday to you!" chorused the dozen children.

Amour looked sourly down at the cake Christian had bought her from the bakery that read in pink icing, "Happy 6th Birthday, Amour!" She pushed it away from her and ran out of the back yard, up the alley, and to the front. She took a seat on the swing Papa had made for her from a long piece of wood and some string that hung from a tree beside the shop, swinging gently and kicking the ground with her feet.

A moment later Christian walked silently from the shop and took a seat beside her on the swing. He said nothing but only stared out into the street, his mind on nothing in particular, just waiting for Amour to break. She did.

"Papa, he didn't show!" she cried, burying her face in his sleeve.

"Who didn't show, darling?"

"Christopher! He promised he would, he said that he would come, and I really wanted him to! He was the most important person I wanted to come to this party, but he's the only one who didn't arrive."

"Most important?" Christian asked, hiding the amusement in his voice.

"Yes, Papa! He promised he would come, he did!"

"And I believe that he would keep his word. Maybe something happened, he might have gotten sick."

"But then Mademoiselle James would have told me so," Amour whined. "She lives only across the street and I know she would have come and told me."

"She lives in that apartment building?"

"Yes, room 47, Christopher told me."

"Why don't you go over there and see if he might have forgotten?" he suggested.

"Really, could I?"

"Sure, I'll walk you across the street."

"I will remember you, will you remember me? Don't let your life pass you buy...weep not for the memories," Satine sang softly, pulling the black veil down over her tear-stained face. She was dressed in a silk black dress and hat, and her matching heels clicked dully on the tiles of the bathroom floor.

Six years ago today, Satine thought, my life lost the best part of it.

Her daughter might have died before Satine even had the chance to hold her, but for nine months the baby had been a part of her own self and she felt more connected to the creation in her womb than she ever had to anyone else in her whole life.

That was why she was dressed in black and crying from the moment she had woken up. Her heart was heavy and she made sure her veil was thick enough for her face to be nearly invisible so that no one would be able to tell if she were crying; the one thing she hated most was people telling her things like "I'm so sorry...I know just how you feel...my friend's cousin's aunt's neighbor went through the exact same thing...." No one was sorry, they just pitied her, and no one could ever know just how she felt or go through the same situation. She was alone in the world, not even her son could understand.

Satine sighed and dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief one last time before walking into the living room to collect Christopher.

"Come on, Chris, we have to go into town to get Amour's present, remember?" she said, grabbing her purse.

A whine was escaping from his throat when he realized what day it was. He knew never to whine or bug or cry on the day of his sister's death, to be the best little boy he possibly could.

"Yes, Mama," he said quietly, taking his mother's hand protectively and leading her out the door.

They walked to the busy parts of Bedford, where most of the shops were located, since it was just around the corner and went into a bargain collectable shop. Satine bought a painting of the Eiffel Tower placed in a gold ornate frame, had it wrapped in a silk cloth and tied with ribbon, then took her son and walked home. Christopher said nothing on the way and went on playing as soon as they stepped in the door. He didn't ask Satine when the party was or to help him dress, but kept quiet as she locked herself in the bedroom.

When the door was closed, Satine slid down to the floor on the other side, a pain consuming her lungs and chest, her hand covering her mouth as coughs emerged from it. Blood spluttered out, staining her lips and pale skin before she could grab her handkerchief and stop it.

"Christian," she found herself saying as she swayed on the spot, her head pounding and her vision unclear. "Christian, I didn't mean to...I promise I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Mama?" she heard a voice respond before everything went black and she fell to a heap on the floor.

"Hello?" Amour called, knocking loudly on the door. "Hello!"

Inside Christopher stood to open the front door, but remembered a rule his mother had clearly stated, 'Never answer the door for someone without permission from me' and ran to his mother's bedroom, knocking loudly. "Mama, someone's at the door! Mama!"

Satine jumped and her eyes snapped open. A blanket of sweat appeared on her face and she began to huff and puff, gasping for breath.

"Mama!"

"Yes?" she squeaked.

"Mama, someone's at the door!"

"I'm coming!" She tried to stand up but found she was too weak, and had to lean on her bureau to help herself up. She was shaking all over and her back felt damp, and looking in the mirror she saw her makeup running. "Just give me a minute, Christopher!" she yelled through the door. "Get the door for me."

She emerged a few minutes later, her makeup fixed and her veil in place, and found Christopher sitting with Amour--and then she remembered, the party!

"Oh, Amour, I'm so sorry I forgot!" she apologized. "Is it over?"

"No, that's why I came so I could get you," said Amour, taking both Satine and Christian's hand and pulling them out in the hall. "Come on!"

She and Christopher deserted Satine, racing down the stairs and across the street, and when Satine walked out of the apartment, she saw the back of a black-haired main talking to the children. Not knowing who he was, she immediately grew worried about them talking to a stranger and asked, "May I help you?"

Maybe if she hadn't said it, maybe if she had just stayed at home and let the children leave themselves, or perhaps if she had just stayed in Oxford and kept the job as the tailor, nothing would ever have happened; whatever it was that brought Satine there at that moment and time, it could only be related to kismet. But when that stranger turned around, and revealed to her the love of her life she had tried so hard to forget, Satine immediately thought that it was some horrible, horrible mistake and that life was just there to torture her.

And yet he was there, standing right before her and just in reach, smiling and laughing as the sun gleamed on his black hair, his eyes seeming to mock the world with their happiness.

Satine's heart began to beat faster and harder until the pounding filled her ears and the handsome face in front of her swam in and out of focus. She was gasping for breath and she felt blood slipping from the corner of her mouth, her vision almost went completely black but Christian reached out and gently touched her arm.

She came back to reality just as Christian was asking, "Are you okay, miss?"

"Christian?" she whispered; she was suddenly very thankful for the years of being in England to change her French voice and the thick veil guising her face.

"Uh, yes," he laughed. "Have we met?"

"N-no," she stumbled. "Um, I'm--I'm Christopher's mother, Sarah, and I've heard a lot about you from my son."

"Nice to meet you," said Christian with a lazy grin, extending his hand.

"You, too," she whispered, taking her hand in his and shaking it. That feeling of his hand, though, stayed with her for much longer, the warm imprint of it still fresh in her own. It had been so soft and smooth, and she dreamed of the days when he used to run it through her hair or alongside her face.

"Are you going to stay for the rest of the party? You're welcome to join us," Christian offered, taking his daughter's hand as if asking to stay for her.

"Oh, no, I couldn't," Satine shook her head, backing away slightly.

"Please, Mademoiselle James?" Amour said, taking Satine's hand with her free one. "Besides, you promised last week that after my party I could tell you my favorite story!"

"_Miss_, Amour, I told you that people in England don't know what mademoiselle is," Christian corrected, swinging their clamped hands back and forth.

"No, really, that's okay," said Satine. "I'm from France."

"Really?" said Christian. "So am I. Not really one specific place, though, I traveled a lot."

Satine smiled. He was lying and she knew it, but she said nothing. She would make up her past, too.

"I grew up in Toulouse and stayed there as a tailor until a few weeks ago."

Christian nodded. "Is your husband from there?"

"Oh, no, I'm not married," she said, a little offended towards Christopher's sake; just because he was born out of wedlock didn't make him any less of a well-raised child. "I adopted Christopher from an agency after I lost my first child."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Christian said softly. "I'm not married, either. Amour's mother died after her birth, apparently something went wrong."

She had never thought of that! He had a _daughter_, which meant he...she couldn't even think about it.

"Sorry," Satine mumbled, too wrapped up in her own emotions to really think about it.

"Papa!" Amour whined. "Talk later, I need to get back to my party!"

"Of course," said Christian, and Satine found herself being led through an alley between the shop and a wooden fence, into a backyard with wild, screaming children.

After Christian had cut the cake and the kids were sitting quietly at the picnic table eating their food, Christian and Satine sat on the back steps talking. She found her self being completely absorbed in the tales she knew he was making up of what he did several years ago, but they were so inventive and creative, she couldn't help but start believing them. 

But even more intoxicating was just being near him. She was sitting so close to him she could smell his sweet cologne and hear his light breathing, could see the wind slightly blow the lock of hair that always seemed to find itself right in the middle of his face. His voice lured her to him and she remembered when he used to sing to her or read his poetry, his eyes begging for her feedback. She found herself, before long, staring at his ink-stained hands, yearning to touch and hold them.

If only he could know, she thought wistfully. If only he could know who I really am.

She began talking at that moment, about nothing in particular, just to see his tanned face move in concentration to hear every word she was saying. But the talking quickly stopped when they started talking about their past love lives and Satine asked, "How did you meet your wife?"

"Just around," Christian mumbled, turning his head away, and announcing the closing of the conversation. Satine stood to help clean up and they didn't discuss anything afterwards.

Soon after the parents picked up all the children, Amour left with Satine and Christopher back to their apartment. They sat down at the kitchen table with milk and cookies before Amour started on her story.

"So," said Satine, "tell me your favorite story."

"Well, that's the one of my Mama and Papa. Papa said that Mama was a courtesan--"

Satine stared. With just that one word she knew how the story would start and end.

"--If you don't know what that is, a courtesan is a princess, the most beautiful princess in all the world. So Mama was a princess of her kingdom, Montmartre, and she lived in this big, big castle called the Moulin Rouge. Papa said that when he got there, she had to marry this maharaja--that's a really mean prince--to keep her kingdom. Things got crazy, though, when she fell in love with Papa, and had to pretend to love the maharaja so she could keep her kingdom. But then she got pregnant with me, and that's all Papa told me until this morning. He said that she ran away to a new kingdom in England, and in Montmartre everyone thought she had died, even Papa. A few months later I was brought to his door by one of Mama's servant, only a few days old, and the servant said that she hadn't really died at all, that she had pretended to so the maharaja wouldn't get mad that she was having someone else's baby. But while having me, something happened and she died. It wasn't my fault, though."

"Of course it wasn't," Satine whispered. She pursed her lips to keep from crying, but felt the tears starting to roll down her cheeks and excused herself to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror, her makeup running from the salty drops of water. "What has he done?" she said shakily. "He's drilling in his daughter's mind our story, just for an excuse as to why her mother isn't around!" She picked up a vase sitting on the windowsill and threw it at the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces and fall to the floor.

Her heart was breaking just as that vase was. It was falling and breaking and there was no one who could stop it....

May thirty-first, she sighed, sitting down on the rim of the tub and rubbing her face with her shaking hands. May thirty-first would never be the same in her heart again, it took away her daughter, one of the very few people she ever actually loved, and brought back the one person she _couldn't_ have in her life ever again.

Satine sighed once more and stood up, walking out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen.

"Sorry, sweetie," she said, rubbing her son's head. "I think it's time for you to bring Amour home."

"But Mama!" Christopher whined, forgetting all rules to not whine or beg. "We only just got here! We haven't even played yet!"

"What if Christopher sleeps over tonight?" Amour offered with pleading eyes. Satine bit her lip and looked at her son who had the same eager expression.

"Are you sure your father would be okay with it?"

"Yes!" said Amour. "And if not, I'll walk Christopher back over. _Please_?"

It didn't take much to get Satine to give in. She wanted to be left alone with peace and quiet. "All right, I guess."

The two children shouted happily and Satine quickly put some clothes in a bag for Christopher, sending him off with barely enough time to shout, "Watch when crossing the street!" before the door slammed shut.

She shut her eyes tightly before almost running into her bedroom as the fiery pain in her chest was returning. Deciding she needed to settle down before doing anything else, she took a seat in her bay window just as lightening struck and thunder rolled, not soon after enormous drops of rain cascading down.

"Once upon a time, in the land of misty satin dreams," she sang slowly, touching her pale hand to the cool glass of the window, where she was able to see Christian's shop, "there stood a house and a man who painted nature scenes. He painted trees and fields and animals and streams and he stayed...and he didn't hear the fallin' of the rain." She flinched, feeling the bitter warm tears falling on her cheeks.

When the children came running into the shop, asking Christian if Christopher could sleep over, he quickly said yes and put them to bed, not wanting to be bothered. He sat behind the counter, staring across the street and towards Sarah's apartment building; he curiously wondered which window was her own and imagined what she was thinking behind it. Surprisingly, he felt these feelings deep inside him that he had only felt when he was around Satine...until he met Sarah....

"In the forest green," he sang, "lived a girl who put her hair in braids, and she sang as she walked all around the wooded glade. She was glad when the rain came falling on her face and she sang, 'cause she didn't mind the fallin' of the rain...."

Satine closed her eyes lazily and imagined kissing Christian again, his soft lips and sweet taste vibrant in her mind. "Will it always be the same as we recall?" she continued singing. "Does it touch you when the rain begins to fall? Ah, but I don't want to know and I don't want to see another rainy day without you lyin' next to me."

She opened her eyes but for all the good it did her, she didn't know because an image of Christian's handsome face appeared in front of her. "High upon a hill far away from all the dusty crowd is a boy, with his eyes on the ground; his head bowed; he is a fool. And his mind is filled with hopeless dreams and he waits, but he will not see the fallin' of the rain."

Christian began to think of Satine. Her beautiful face, her sweet voice and smooth skin... how could someone so alive be so...dead?

"Will it always be the same as we recall? Does it touch you when the rain begins to fall?" He sighed, slouching in his seat and tears pricking in his eyes. The thought of her couldn't help but make him cry. "Ah, but I don't want to know and I don't want to see another rainy day without you lyin' next to me....

"So now the boy becomes the man who sits and paints all day," Satine sang, crouched in her window.

"But the girl with the braids in her hair has gone away," followed Christian, sitting on his wooden counter.

"And it seems that time has brought things to an end; nothing's changed," Satine thought of the feelings she had felt for Christian earlier...after all this time, she still loved him.

"'Cause you can't stop the fallin' rain..." their voices echoed in unison in their own homes, their own thoughts and feelings that consumed them in the night of the falling rain.

Christian cried for Satine, but also for the feelings stirring deep inside his heart caused by someone he barely knew, and Satine cried because of Christian. She missed him, she loved him, she hated him for entering her life again...for once, she couldn't run away as an answer. She was stuck where she was with no money, a meager home, and a son to love and care for.

What was she going to do?

A/N: Done. And also...HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MOULIN ROUGE!! It has been one year exactly since Moulin Rouge came out in theaters on June 1, 2001!! Woohoo! I'm having a party. :)

Special Thanks: to all of you people who reviewed...you made me cry and feel as if I actually wrote something half worth reading. Thank you so much!

Translations:

Beau- beautiful

Merci- thank you

Tres- very

Promesse- promise

Oui- yes

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

A Thousand Miles by Vanessa Carlton

I Will Remember You by I don't know

Falling of the Rain by Billy Joel


	4. Flirting with Disaster

**L'amour Fou**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter IV - Flirting with Disaster

Satine woke up the next morning with a stiff back and a sticky face from all the tears. Her hair was a mess and her dress was wrinkled, not to mention her makeup was one big blur on her cheeks. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror and slipped immediately into the iron tub, sinking under the steaming water. 

Christian woke up in practically the same fashion, his brow furrowed at the memory of the previous nights events. His head pounded and throbbed and his throat was scratchy and sore, but he reluctantly pulled himself out of bed when he heard the scrambling of the children in the shop below. He washed his face quickly and changed into a new suit, then marched his way downstairs to the shop.

Satine had waken up before Christian had and was ready before him, too, and had been in the shop for nearly a quarter of an hour when he entered with a dumbfounded expression--that face, that beautiful face looked so familiar yet so different as to any pulchritude face he had seen before and he longed to reach out and touch.

"Do I look that horrible?" Satine laughed, trying to hide its nervousness. She had forgotten that he had never seen her face before! What if he recognized her? "I had a bad night," she explained afterwards with an inward sigh.

"Yes--I mean no, no you look beautiful--or, uh, you look fine! Well, not saying you don't look beautiful, because you do--" Christian found himself stumbling over his words and sentences, completely rambling and confused, and having no idea why. It was just Sarah, right?

Satine laughed again and stopped him from continuing. "I know what you mean," she said. "It's okay, you don't have to be so nervous. We're friends, right?"

Christian nodded, walking over to the door and flipping the open/close sign to 'Open.' Deep inside, his heart was churning and something was flitting around in his stomach, almost the same as Satine's was.

What am I doing? she thought vehemently. The night before she had been cursing him for entering her life, and here she was asking him to be her _friend_? She was flirting with disaster! She could almost feel its cold hand gripping her throat as she stared at him, but the feelings inside her made it impossible...

"So," said Satine, clearing her throat and turning back to the children, "what do you guys want to do today?"

"Are you taking them somewhere?" he asked, joining Christopher and Amour behind the counter. Satine leaned lazily on the other side and shrugged.

"If it's okay with you, I mean," she said. She directed the rest towards her son and his friend, "And nothing expensive, I don't have much money."

"I can give you some to take them out," Christian offered, reaching for the cash register.

"No, that's okay, really," said Satine. "I just don't have a job right now and I'm just being wary of the little savings I have."

"Have you checked for jobs downtown?" said Christian.

"Yes, but no one is exactly looking for an unmarried mother who can't do anything but sew," she muttered sarcastically.

"You don't know how to cook or clean or anything like that?"

"I can sing," Satine shrugged again. "And I can dance and act, too, but that's about it."

Christian laughed. "You remind me of S--" he stopped abruptly, his eyes widening. It was the first time he had mentioned Satine by name aloud since she had died. "Never mind," he said quickly. "Anyway, you've checked everywhere for a job?"

"Yes, but no one seems to want to hire me," she looked out the display window wistfully, and Christian had the sudden urge to reach out and touch that long black hair that flowed over her shoulders, half of it pulled back into a barrette. It was so straight and looked so soft, he wanted to bury his face in it and whisper sweet nothings to her ear. He pulled himself together, and just as he did, a sudden idea struck him.

"Why don't you work here?" he said, his voice at first squeaking in apprehensiveness.

"What?" Satine's head snapped towards him and her eyes grew larger.

"Sorry, I mean you don't have to--"

"No, I'd love to!" she said reassuringly, even though her mind was telling her not to. Don't! it seemed to cry out at her. Remember—you're already on the verge of disaster! Do you really want to do anymore damage to your life? But who was she to listen to, her mind or her heart? "I'd love to work here."

Her heart.

"Really?" Christian said with an uneasy smile. He was just as uncertain as she was at this--was he betraying his love to Satine by hiring a beautiful woman he was...attracted to?

Attracted! he mentally shouted. You promised yourself you wouldn't love another person after you lost Satine....

"Yes, that would be great!" she said, her face breaking out into a wide grin. "I'd be able to walk here in the morning, it's just across the street. But--are you sure about this?"

"Of--of course," he said shakily, but his heart warmed considerably when her face lit up at this new situation. "When would you like to start?"

"I'll come Monday after Amour goes to school, okay?"

"Sure, that's a deal."

If that had been flirting with disaster before, over the next couple of weeks Satine practically married it. Every day she walked to the shop and worked with Christian, and when school was let out, the children helped out as well. Being with Christian again brought back all the horrible memories, all the pain she was caused and what she inflicted herself, but with each day she found a new yearning to be near him, and it grew stronger and stronger as the time passed between them.

Christian found himself watching her, though he was too embarrassed to admit it, in a sexual way and found himself attracted to her even more. She was so beautiful and reminded him _so much_ of Satine, that it was almost impossible to not see the resemblance. His heart leapt at her voice, his face glowed at her appearance, but still she showed no signs of returning his affection.

Of course, Satine knew what she was doing. She wouldn't give in; she would torture him for even _daring_ to look at another girl! Had her forgotten her? Was she piled under the years of pain and was refused to let surface? Her heart ached when she realized Christian was falling for another, even if it was the same girl. If he could fall in love so easily with someone else, who was to say he hadn't done it several times since she 'died'?

To the townspeople, the truth was plain; the two were completely in love. Mrs. Gerber would start bawling when she saw the two together, so happy she was, and had to limp away on her cane before she had a heart attack from all the excitement.

Yet both Satine and Christian knew that they weren't 'completely in love.' They were so close, so near it that their very hearts could feel the pulsating emotions, but both of them stopped the other and themselves from going the whole way. Satine was caught on her future, she wanted her son to have the best life possible, and in order for that to happen, Christian could in no way be involved, especially if he ever found out who she really was. And Christian was caught in the past. He couldn't get his mind off of Satine whenever he saw Sarah, and it was then that he felt most guilty about what he was doing. 

But there was no doubt about it—they were falling in love faster than disaster could keep up, but as always, it wasn't far behind.

A/N: Sorry this chapter was so short...it was just kind of here to show you that though they were falling for each other, nothing's ever destined to go perfect, right? Next chapter they actually give in to their feelings!! It should be up either today or tomorrow.

Also, another HAPPY ANNIVERSARY/BIRTHDAY SHOUT TO MOULIN ROUGE!! ONE YEAR SINCE IT CAME OUT IN THEATERS AND STILL IT REMAINS THE BEST MOVIE! Well, to me at least.

Oh, just something I noticed and thought I would point out...in this chapter it's June 1, or at least starts out to be, and today is June 1st...sorry, thought I'd just add that.

Special Thanks: to all of you people who reviewed...you made me cry and feel as if I actually wrote something half worth reading. Thank you so much! Oh, and sandpiper...I love Chocolat! It's such a cute movie! And now that I think about it, the shop does remind me of the one in my story.

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

None


	5. Dubious Love

L'amour Fou 

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter V – Dubious Love

Satine looked at herself in her full-sized mirror. Her black hair was loose and wild and her lips were deep red, looking like how she had worn her lipstick in her courtesan days. She wore a light blue cotton blouse and dark navy skirt, an assortment of clothes resembling what she usually wore, as she had given up those fancy, expensive dresses when she fled Montmartre. Her neck and ears held pearl jewelry and she was wearing her dark blue pumps. All in all, she looked even more beautiful than usual, if that was possible, but she had a reason to anyway. Mrs. Gerber was watching the kids that night since Christian had said he had a 'special surprise' for Satine that evening.

There was still little or no romance between them, but Satine had a different feeling about what was to come in the following hours. The butterflies in her stomach were wild, out of control, and she had a wonderful yet nervous feeling shaking her body all over as she grabbed her purse and left for Christian's shop. Inside it was dark, and when she called out his name, there was no answer and everything remained silent. As her eyes focused, she noticed the faint glow of a candle coming from his office. She walked to the back of the shop, followed the hallway to the back, and to the slightly ajar door. She took a deep breath and pushed it open, the sight immediately making her gasp.

There were candles everywhere and white petals scattered across the floor, more full white roses laid randomly about the room. Everything glowed in the candlelight and gave off a white/orange-y glow.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" said a voice behind her, and she gasped, twirling around, to meet the awfully close face of Christian.

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," she said, tears forming in her eyes. It was exactly like something he would have done for her in Montmartre... But a part of her was scared, too, because if she gave into this it would break the border of friendship and go into something much deeper.

"Come," he said, taking her hand and leading her into the office. In the middle a table was set up with a small candelabra in the center, dinner for two on either side.

"Christian, please don't," Satine sighed. 

"What?" he asked, helping her into her seat.

"I don't deserve this," she whispered, the tears breaking out and rolling down her cheeks. 

"But Sarah, you do," said Christian softly, taking a seat across from her. "You deserve so much more, you deserve everything I can't give you, and this is the best I can do."

"You don't know," she said almost angrily. "You don't know about my past or the things I've done, you don't know the pain I've caused people or the sins I've committed." Her eyes closed bitterly at the memory of what she had done to the person in front of her.

"I don't need to know!" Christian cried, standing from his seat and kneeling beside her. He took her hand in his and kissed it softly. "I don't need to know anything about what you did in your past or what you're going to do in your future, the present is all that matters." He pulled her up from her seat and cupped her chin carefully with his hand. Her tears glistened by the light of the candles, wet from the tears that poured still.

Christian smiled warmly and rubbed her cheek, his other hand wrapping in her soft hair. He edged slowly forward and kissed Satine's lips softly and quick, almost as if tantalizing her with something she couldn't have. But the look in his eyes proved her wrong, showing that he wanted her more than anything. She wouldn't give in, though. She backed away.

"What's wrong?" Christian asked worriedly.

"I can't do this," Satine whispered. "You don't know what you're doing. One kiss leads to a romance, leads to love, leads to an affair that ruins your whole life!"

"What are you talking about?" said Christian, his brow furrowed and slight memories coming to him of an affair he had long ago.

"I can't get involved with anyone, Christian. It causes to much pain and anguish and...suffering."

"But it doesn't have to be that way--"

"Life doesn't work that way! I'm always alone in the end!" Satine shouted. She sighed, fresh tears seeping out, and began to sing quietly, "Loneliness is always looking for a friend, it found me once and it has been around since then..."

"Change that!" Christian cried, continuing in song. "Well I tell you that we'll all be looking for changes, changes in the way we treat our fellow creatures, and we will learn how to grow...when we're looking for changes!"

"I can't fall in love!" she countered. "Don't get me wrong, I'll still long to hold you every night, but my heart can't take another break when there's no relief in sight."

Christian shook his head, hurt that she would ever believe that he would leave her. "I realize the best part of love is the thinnest lace, and it don't count for much but I'm not letting go. I believe there's still so much to believe in! So lift your eyes if you feel you can, reach for a star and I'll show you a plan! I figured it out, what I needed was someone to show me...You know you can't fool me, I've been loving you too long. It started so easy, you want to carry on."

Satine watched as he slinked towards the door, and felt her heart breaking at the pain she was causing him again. She wanted to shout, to yell out that she was there and loving him, but her actions took over her words and she grabbed his arms, spinning him around and kissing him. It was quick and smooth, just as he had done to her, except she really was trying to make him suffer with yearning.

"I wonder should I tell you," she sang, her face barely an inch away from his, "'bout all the crazy things I've ever done. I've been searching all my life and when I should have stayed, I tried to run. I was searching for an answer in a world full of strangers, but what I found was never real enough. Now that I've found you, I'm looking in the eyes of love. Darlin', you've been good to me; you are so much more than I deserve. I never thought I would find someone who's so sweet and kind like you. Please believe me when I say this time I won't run away. I swear by all of heaven's stars above, now that I've found you, I'm looking in the eyes of love."

Christian rubbed her cheek with his hand again, finding no words to say. He stayed silent for a moment before singing, "I know that I can't describe what I'm feeling inside...maybe I'll learn. I guess I live with the fear this could all disappear, if I try to put it in words."

Satine couldn't withstand her feelings any more. She threw herself at Christian, but before her lips could part Christian gently pulled her off.

"Will you leave after this?" he asked. "I don't want to give you my heart to have it broken in return."

Satine looked deep into his eyes and saw the old penniless writer beginning to show after all those years, and she realized in a heartbeat that she couldn't live without him. "I could never leave you, Christian." She leaned in and kissed him again, this time parting his lips with her tongue and drowning in his taste, so sweet and recognizable that she found she had to compel herself not to lose control completely. But that kiss—it seemed to last a thousand years under competent ecstasy, and she soon lost track of her hands as they began to unbutton his shirt, pulling that off, then fumbling with his trousers. They lowered to the floor atop the petals, where Christian eagerly peeled off Satine's blouse and skirt, then gently rolled her over to untie her corset.

That night Satine made love to the father of her 'dead' child and was shown in a passionate, romantic way that while love was destructive in every way possible, there was no running from it.

A/N: Another short one...but poor Satine and Christian, because after this there's only pain and heartbreak. I think I'm rushing a bit here so after the next chapter, that'll be it for a while. And no, no one find's out anything in the next chapter yet.

Special Thanks: to all of you people who reviewed...you made me cry and feel as if I actually wrote something half worth reading. Thank you so much!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either: (I used these particular songs without ever hearing how they sound, so sorry if the song doesn't go with the story...lol, I just noticed they all start with the letter 'L' too)

Loneliness Knows Me By Name – Westlife

Looking for Changes – Paul McCartney

Losing You Feels Good – Martina McBride

Lost in Love – Air Supply

Looking in the Eyes of Love – Alison Krauss

Love by Another Name – Celine Dion


	6. Secret Missives

L'amour Fou 

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter VI – Secret Missives

The next morning Satine woke up with Christian's arms around her. She had slept comfortably through the night on the soft petals, covered by a thin sheet Christian had pulled from the closet, and now smiled, even more comforted by his warm body heat. She rolled over and onto her other side to see his face, contorted into a deep sleep. His hair was falling in his eyes and his mouth was curved into a smile.

Satine kissed him gently on his lips before scrambling up and dressing. She left just as quietly and walked to Mrs. Gerber to collect the children. When the door opened, Christopher jumped into his mother's arms and Amour came running out. A moment later, Mrs. Gerber came wobbling into view.

"Good morning, Sarah! How was your night?" she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. Satine just laughed and blushed, confirming Mrs. Gerber's suggestions. "Yes, you young lovers these days just can't keep your hands off each other, hm? Reminds me of Mr. Gerber and I, you know."

Satine laughed again. Christopher noticed her good mood and still in his mother's arms, put his hand up to her forehead. "Are you sick?" he asked.

"Of course not, why do you ask that?" she said.

"'Cause you keep laughing and smiling," he told her. "You usually always look so sad and mad."

"Is it okay if I'm happy from now on?" she smiled. "Would you like that?"

Christopher nodded happily and threw his arms around his mother's neck, hugging her tightly.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Gerber," said Satine, about to walk back to the shop. "Both Christian and I appreciate it."

"Oh, and Sarah, I think you might want to stop by your apartment first. A delivery man came to my house asking where you lived, he said he had an urgent missive for you, and I told them your apartment number."

"I will, Mrs. Gerber, thanks again!"

She dropped Christopher and Amour off at the shop before going to her apartment. She found an envelope under the door, and pulled it out, only to drop it to the floor again.

"Oh God," she gasped, a fiery pain coming over her chest and erupting through her throat, ending in bloody coughs. "Oh God, no." She picked up the letter again with a shaky hand, just to confirm what she saw. Right on the front, printed quite clearly, read not Sarah James but Satine, a name of the past that brought only horrible memories.

"Someone knows," she cried. "Someone knows who I am, where I am..."

She pulled out her handkerchief after the coughing subsided and dabbed at her eyes before ripping open the letter and starting to read.

_Dear Satine,_

_How long has it been since I last saw my precious Sparkling Diamond? Long enough, dear, and it's time I came to visit. By the time you read this, I'll be well on my way and arriving not soon after. Of course Harold insisted he come as well, but I'm afraid it's not for the same reasons. You know that we love you and want only the best for you, so we have been keeping a secret from you for some time, and I think it has come to the point where the truth needs to be told. No matter what, you know that I'll always love you._

_                                                                                                            -Marie_

Satine's mouth hung open. If Christian saw them he would find out! After everything they said, _did_, last night, he would find out it had all been one big lie. She sighed, leaning her head against the wall. They would be here soon...how many days did she have until her newfound paradise would be ruined?

She ripped the envelope in an irate frenzy before stuffing the letter between her skirt and blouse and walking off gloomily towards the shop. What would she tell Christian when they arrived? Would it be better to just tell him now? Then there was always the option of running....

"Please believe me when I say this time I won't run away," she sang, remembering the promising words she had sung to Christian the night before. She crossed the street and walked into the shop just as Christian was coming from the back, and she saw the happy look in his eyes as he yawned sleepily, and she sang under her breath, "I swear by all of heaven's stars above, now that I've found you, I'm looking in the eyes of love."

She smiled and walked up to him, slinking her arms around his neck and kissing his nose. "Good morning, handsome."

He had no need of words, but instead swept her up in his arms and kissed her passionately.

"Wow," Satine breathed when they had detached. It was Christian's turn to smile and he pulled her into another kiss, this time his hands snaking down to the hem of her skirt, and reaching into the side of her tucked in blouse, touching bare skin. Unnoticed by both, the letter slipped out and went falling to the floor. "Not now," she laughed, pulling his hands out.

"Why not?" he said with a fake pout.

She looked up into his face with what could only be called a loving glance, and whispered, "Because once I start I don't think I'll ever be able to stop."

Christian smiled again. "Do you love me that much?"

"More than you'll ever know," she said, kissing his forehead. "Now I'm going to go make sunny-side-up eggs, your favorite, while you open the shop." She turned to go up the stairs into the living area, when she felt Christian's hand on her arm. She looked behind her to see an amused yet confused look on his face.

"How did you know?" he asked. 

"How did I know what?"

"That sunny-side-up eggs are my favorite?"

Satine stayed silent for a moment. She couldn't just blurt out, 'Because I'm really Satine, your dead lover, and I remember when I used to cook breakfast for you in my boudoir,' though it sounded awfully tempting to just get everything out in the open. But she looked at his happy, content face and her heart broke at the thought of hurting him again. "Just a guess," she said simply, before going up the stairs.

Christian shrugged confusedly, but let it be, and was about to walk to his office when something on the floor caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a letter, handling it between his fingers.

"Must be Sarah's," he muttered. He was about to unfold it to see what it read, when the soft chiming of a bell at the front door announced a customer, and he laid it beneath the counter for later.

A/N: These just keep getting shorter, don't they? Oh well. Wow, this is the fourth chapter I've uploaded today, huh? In the next chapter, things are gonna be chaotic, but that's all I'll say. I don't want to give too much away. I thought I was gonna post it next week but I'm gonna do it now instead, so you can just go read it anyway.

Special Thanks: to all the reviewers, you make me scream and cry and jump for joy every time I read one of your reviews!! Lol, it makes me so happy, you have no idea!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

None


	7. We All Need Some Truth

L'amour Fou 

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter VII – We All Need Some Truth

Dedication: Lady-Evenstar, a great reviewer who gave me a great idea and inspiration to write the next chapter ASAP! Thank you so much!

The days passed and still there was no sign of Marie or Zidler. Every other minute Satine was looking out the display window as if expecting a carriage to pull up in front of her apartment and her world to come crashing down, but each and every time the streets were deserted of carriages and she continued working. After a while, Christian started to notice that she was apprehensive and scared about something, and got the definite hint that something was wrong when every time he started touching her, she flinched. If he put her hand on her shoulder, she would jump, if he turned her around and kissed her, she screamed. There was definitely something wrong.

"Sarah?" he asked her one night. The children were in Christopher's bed sleeping, and Satine and Christian were sitting quietly in the living room, Satine constantly staring out the window.

"Yes?" she responded, her eyes still focused on outside.

"Sarah, look at me."

With one last nervous look at the window, she turned her head and gave him a fake reassuring smile.

"What's wrong?" He was speaking quite seriously and his eyes were hard and callous, making the smile disappear from Satine's face.

"Christian, don't start this again," she sighed, looking towards the window once again. "We've been over this a hundred times, everything is _fine_."

"Damn it, Sarah!" he yelled, standing up furiously. "Stop telling me that! Everything is _not_ fine and you know it! Why can't you just tell me? I thought you loved me!"

"I do love you!" she shouted back, standing up and facing him. "But this is _my_ problem, _my_ situation, and _my_ life!"

Christian stared sadly back at her. They both knew that by just saying that, he was hurt in a way that was unforgivable on Satine's part.

"Oh, Christian, I'm so sorry," Satine whispered, and tiny tears started making paths down her cheeks. God! she thought angrily. Is cry the only thing I ever do anymore?

"No, no you're not," Christian spat. "You're not sorry for anything, are you? You're not sorry for what you're doing to me either, I bet! Do you even care that my heart is breaking to see you so upset? It breaks again and again every time you look out the window and frown—why can't you tell me what's wrong so I can stop worrying?"

"I can't, Christian," she said, the tears now pouring heavily. "Don't put me in this situation! Don't make me choose between telling you or losing you, I just can't do it!"

"You'd rather lose me than tell me?" he said quietly. He looked at her disbelievingly. "I—I can't believe you just said that! I can't believe you can't choose between the love of your life and—never mind. I don't even want to think about it."

Satine sighed, rubbing her temples. She stood to go to the bathroom but Christian stopped her by catching her off her guard and kissing her.

"Christian, what are you doing?" she whispered between the hot kisses he placed on her neck, her face, her sweet lips. Hadn't they been fighting just a moment ago?

"I fought with the love of my life before and wound up losing her," he whispered before kissing her again. "I don't want it to happen to you, too."

Satine knew he was talking about herself, and she pushed away from him, unable to be kissed like that when she was feeling so guilty. "People don't just make up like this, Christian—"

"Yes, yes they do," he said desperately. He took her hand, kneeled on one knee, and inhaled deeply before continuing.

"Christian, don't do this," Satine cried.

But when his heart was set on something, Christian went the full distance, and he kissed her hand delicately before looking up into her beautiful face and asking, "Will you marry me?"

At that moment both Satine and Christian's lives changed forever. There was someone at the door, someone knocking to get in and Satine knew who it was and dreaded it with all her might. Her heart began to beat so fast, the pounding filled all her senses and she momentarily went mad. She pulled Christian up to his feet, taking his face between her hands, and kissed him, knowing it would be the last time. She caressed his cheek and whispered, "I'm so sorry for everything in advance, and just remember that no matter what happens, no matter what comes between us, I'll always love you."

Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor, a heap at Christian's feet. He was about to bend down to help her when the door swung open and there appeared two people he thought he would never see again.

"Zidler?" he said in amazement. "Marie?"

"Christian!" they both gasped, and then they saw Satine lying at his feet, crying and rocking herself back and forth.

"Darling, what's wrong?" Marie said, running to her side.

"How do you know Sarah?" he asked angrily. "And what the hell are you doing here?" His head pounded with old memories of Satine, of her voice, her touch, her delicate kisses—what was going on?

"Who's Sarah?" Zidler asked in confusion.

"What do you mean 'who's Sarah'?" Christian shouted. "This is her damn apartment and I still don't know why the hell you're in it!"

"Oh, no," Marie sighed, still by Satine who was continuing crying and rocking. "I can't believe this. Oh, poor dear, what you must have gone through!" She stood up and put her arms around Christian, and when she stepped away, tears were in his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Christian asked, his brow furrowed.

"Where's your daughter?" she asked simply.

"What does Amour have to do with anything?" he said sharply, not wanting to get his daughter involved.

"Christian, I'm trying to remain calm and reasonable. Now listen to me, go get your daughter and bring her out here."

Christian disappeared into Christopher's bedroom. Zidler stormed into the apartment, slamming the door behind him, and demanded Marie tell him what was going on.

"Harold, I don't want to hear another word from you!" she yelled. "If it hadn't been for you, perhaps none of this would have happened! But your big mouth got these two in the worst complication that they could ever handle, and I don't want you here making it worse! I swear, if you say one thing—"

"Marie, if you don't tell me this instant what is happening—"

They were both interrupted by Christian reentering, a little girl in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, and a little boy holding Christian's hand, rubbing his eyes with the other.

"This is Amour," he said, putting her down and taking her hand. "You better not hurt her, I swear you better not."

"Christian, I would never hurt her in any way or form," Marie said reassuringly. "But I think it's time you all know the truth."

At that moment, the crying figure of Satine jumped up and started screaming. "No, Marie, don't! Please don't ruin everything!" She was still crying and shaking so hard, that small coughs were quickly escaping, sending drops of blood all over her hand.

Christian stared, oddly reminded of Satine. He shook his head and turned back to Marie, who was now frowning.

"It will be better for everyone," she said, making Satine scream and plead even more. "He would find out sooner or later anyway."

"Marie, no! I forbid you to tell him anything! This is not your problem! I can solve this myself! I don't _need_ you! Get out, GET OUT!" She ran to Marie and started punching her elder's chest with such force that Christian was surprised she didn't collapse in the middle of the beatings. Instead, she calmly took Satine's wrists and forced her to calm down, and she did, falling helplessly into Marie's arms.

"I promise you everything will be okay. Shh, this will solve anything," she soothed. "Shh, calm down, dear, calm down."

"Papa?" Christian looked down to see Amour staring sleepily at him. She shouldn't have to see this, he thought, this isn't something for a child to witness. "Can I go back to bed now?" Christian shook his head gently, but sat her and Christopher on the sofa. 

"If you don't mind," he said, his face contorted into an irate expression, "my daughter is tired and unless we are to settle this _now_, we're leaving."

Satine looked up at him, still crying. Her long black hair was all over and her makeup was running, but to Christian she still looked as beautiful as ever. "Christian, you have to go. Please, Christian, just leave; I don't want you to be here, to hear any of this. Just go, please, for all of us."

Christian looked towards Marie, who seemed to be the leader of all this, and saw her shake her head sadly.

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but if it concerns you, I think I should hear it," he said quietly.

Zidler, who had been hiding in the shadows of the corner, suddenly burst forth in anger and cried, "HER NAME IS SATINE!"

Everything went quiet. Satine stopped crying and Marie stopped whispering placating words; the children stopped yawning and rubbing their eyes, keeping their focus on their Mama and Papa; Zidler went white, knowing what he had just done, and collapsed on the sofa, rubbing his face guiltily.

But Christian...he stopped moving, stopped breathing. He stood rigid as around him the world seemed to fade away and become nothing, and just for a second that sad, beautiful black-haired woman became the seductive, gorgeous radiant Satine. Then the present came back, the clock's started ticking, and he was in a room where there seemed not a drop of happiness.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" he whispered, not even daring to speak louder. "Satine is dead, she _died_, she died having my precious Amour." His head snapped towards Satine who had silently started crying again. "Sarah, tell them!" His voice was almost begging her to tell him the opposite of the words he had just been told. "Tell them this isn't true! Tell them you're Sarah James!"

She began to sob uncontrollably but nodded all the same.

"See, there's your proof," Christian spat. He walked to the sofa and picked up Amour, and went swiftly past Marie and Satine. "I don't need this, I don't want to be a part of this. Goodbye."

"But I wasn't Sarah James forever," Satine whispered to herself. She looked up just as Christian reached for the doorknob and straightened, trying to gather together enough strength. She swallowed hard and started to sing.

"Never knew I could feel like this." Her voice came out thin and weak, but it caused Christian to stop in his tracks. "It's like I've never seen the sky before...want to vanish inside your kiss, every day I'm lovin' you more and more."

A strangled noise came from Christian, silently announcing he was starting to cry. He turned his face slowly around, tearstained and irate, to where Satine was looking at him intently, the tears come faster and harder and the song coming out even more limply.

"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sing?" she continued. "Come back to me and forgive everything!" She stopped, gasping for breath. 

Christian opened his mouth as if on instinct to sing, but quickly closed it when he remembered what had just happened.

Satine didn't have the strength to sing anymore. She fell to her knees once again, but this time Marie let her be and didn't help. She was gasping and strangling, almost begging for air, but it came in short, small gaps, and soon blood was falling onto the rug of the floor.

"Papa, what's happening to Sarah?" Amour asked, breaking the silence.

Christian silently turned to leave again, but he realized he couldn't do that to his daughter. He could break his heart all he wanted, but now that he knew the truth, he couldn't do that to his daughter. He smoothed the hair away from her face and said shakily, "You know how I said Mama was up in Heaven, in God's house?" Amour nodded. "Well, God decided it was time for her to come back to us, and...Sarah is your Mama, darling."

"She is?" Amour gasped. "Can I go tell her?"

Christian looked down pathetically to the lump that was the sobbing Satine. "Maybe another day. It's time to go home."

He reached for the door and this time no song, no surprising or shocking words, stopped him and he continued on into the hallway. With every footstep he took that echoed back into Satine's room, she felt him taking another step out of her life forever, and nothing Marie or Zidler did could keep her from sobbing out her heart that night, until the chest pains came, the coughing shook her, and blood appeared on her lips. Even then her heartbreaking cries continued on.

A/N: There, he knows, ya happy? J/K, I liked writing this chapter. It was fun, but I cried. I dunno what direction to go into after this. I have a sense of what I'm gonna do, but I'm not sure if I'm gonna go through with what I planned to from the beginning. Again, thank you Lady-Evenstar for the idea. I didn't use it how I wanted to, but oh well; it was still a good idea. Anyways, like I said, I don't know exactly what's gonna happen after this, so the next chapter might take a while.

Oh, and since this'll be the last chapter I upload today (five is enough) I want to say one more time HAPPY BIRTHDAY/ANNIVERSARY MOULIN ROUGE AND CONGRATS ON IT BEING EXACTLY ONE YEAR SINCE YOU CAME OUT IN MOVE THEATERS ON JUNE 1, 2002 AND STILL YOU'RE THE BEST MOVIE EVER!! Or to me, at least.

Special Thanks: to all the reviewers, you make me scream and cry and jump for joy every time I read one of your reviews!! Lol, it makes me so happy, you have no idea!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

'Come What May' by some genius I don't know


	8. Zidler Confesses

**L'amour Fou**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter VIII – Zidler Confesses

Christian sighed for the umpteenth time that night. His face was sticky from tears and his hand was cut and bleeding from breaking or throwing so many glass objects in anger, and his hair stood up at odd ends from running his hands threw it.

How could he not have recognized Sarah--Satine--whatever the hell her name was! Had love blinded him so much that he couldn't even recognize his own Satine? But she had looked so different in an amazingly similar and familiar way that she seemed like a brand new person walking into his life. Her face had softened and transfigured over the six years she had been gone, and the hair threw him off track completely. It had been so long and dark and soft; it caught him off balance every time he wrapped it around his fingers when kissing Satine.

And yet while he thought about the evening's events, the fact that Satine was alive, that Satine was Sarah, that she was just across the street breathing, and living, and...crying, none of it registered. Not one word of it truly sunk deep enough to the point where he believed anything.

From somewhere downstairs in the shop a clock stroke midnight, and looking out his bedroom window, he saw Satine's own light flicker on across the street. His vision swam for a moment from all the beers he drank, but a moment later he was running down the stairs and across the street. He didn't know why or what he was exactly doing, but whether she was dead or alive or falling completely apart, he needed to see Satine, he needed to know if it was true or not, or if everything were just one big nightmare.

He didn't even wait to knock but walked straight in. Marie and Zidler were sleeping on the sofa, so he quietly slinked past and into Satine's bedroom. There was no light and the room was empty, but he waited patiently until he heard the bathroom door shut quietly. The next minute someone was walking into the bedroom, and Christian could tell from the dull clunks on the floor that it was Satine.

Slamming the door closed quickly before Satine could react, Christian pushed her roughly up against the wall, pinning each of her arms back with his strong hands. She tried to scream but Christian put her hand over his mouth and began to whisper, 'Shh, shh.'

When he freed her mouth she said quietly, her voice shaking in fear, "Please, take anything you want, just don't hurt me or my son."

"Anything?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Anything, just take it!" she said.

Christian smiled insanely, not even thinking before pressing his lips so hard against hers they felt bruised when he pulled back.

"No, please," she said. "I'm--I'm married, my husband will be home from the office any moment--"

"You're not married," Christian hissed, and this time Satine heard his voice completely and recognized it as the man she loved.

"Christian?" she gasped, trying to push him away. But he was too vehement, too eager, so upset he was bordering to the point of doing something insane, not that any of this wasn't ludicrous. Immediately tears formed in her eyes at the memory of what had happened earlier, and she tried to push him off again. "Christian, no--"

"Don't tell me no!" he shouted as loud as he dared. He pushed her up further against the wall, slipping his hands inside of her blouse, and when she flinched at his touch, it angered him even more. He kissed her again, forcing her mouth open and violently raking his hands up and down her back and through her hair.

"Christian, you're drunk, just go home," she said, ripping her lips away from his. "You hate me, we're fighting, I told you people don't forgive each other like that."

"Of course I hate you," he whispered, kissing her neck and running his hands up and down her figure. "God, do I hate you, Satine! But there's a thin border, _such_ a thin border, between hating you and loving you with such an unspeakable passion. I hate you, I hate you so much!"

"Don't do this to yourself, Christian," said Satine, and she was starting to sound angry. "You're torturing yourself _and_ me, and we can't go on like this."

Christian pressed his hand firmly against the wall to keep from touching Satine again. It took everything he had not to kiss her, touch her, carry her over to her bed and show her what love really was, but he realized he couldn't. His head ached remembering the commotion of before and he realized how stupid he was acting--they were fighting, he hated her, and she was suffering from hurting him. He leaned forward and softly brushed his lips against her own as a silent sorry.

Satine closed her eyes, relieved, at the gesture. She was about to try and get out of his grasp when she felt something wet fall on her cheek, and reaching up and touching Christian's moist face, she realized he had started crying. Whether in a fight or not, she still couldn't bear to see him cry and asked him quietly what was wrong.

"I just don't believe it," he whispered. "I just don't believe it's really you."

Satine stepped aside and lit a candle, bringing some light into the room, and walked back to Christian. "Just look, Christian, I'm the same person I always was."

He looked closely at her face, but after a minute or so, he shook his head, more tears rolling down his cheeks. "I just need to know, I need to know..."

Satine sighed and took his hand, placing it against her cheek. "Look, Christian," she said. "Look deep enough and I promise you you'll find it." Christian looked up and this time focused on her eyes. But they were a dark blue, so dark they seemed nearly black, not the beautiful crystals he remembered Satine having.

"Deeper, Christian," he heard her mutter. He came closer to her face and in the candlelight peered at her dark pools of eyes.

"No," Christian said, shaking his head.

"Yes, look deeper," she said, inching closer to him. She took a deep breath and sang, "Come what may." She knew it would help him, and she was right, for those three simple words pushed him to the extreme, and in a moment those dark eyes seemed to lighten and the months of pain and passion they experienced in Montmartre flooded out. But then they became dark, the memories flitted, and Christian realized his horrible mistake.

"I can't have you, Satine," he said, walking towards the door suddenly.

"What?" she asked, reaching out and touching his arm.

"I can't have you in my life," he told her, staring down at the floor as the tears came again. "I don't _want_ you in my life. Stay away from the shop, stay away from my daughter, and most importantly, stay away from me." He opened the door quickly then, shutting it just as fast on his way out.

"God, what have I done?" she whispered, sliding down against the wall and into a heap on the floor.

When Christian reentered the shop, Amour was walking down the stairs rubbing her eyes.

"Go back to bed, Amour," he told her.

She yawned and asked, "Can I go see Mama now?"

"No, Mama's sleeping, like you should be," he said, picking her up and carrying her upstairs. He placed her in bed and then went into his own bedroom to wallow in his sorrows. It was amazing how perfect your life could be one day, and then how it can just be ripped out from under you and destroyed in one moment.

"HER NAME IS SATINE!" The words rang through his head, torturing him in unbelievable amounts until he gripped and pulled his hair in anger.

"No, she's not!" he cried, trying to force the reality away. "She's Sarah and I love her and Satine...Satine is dead, she's gone, I've moved on with my life..."

He took a swig of liquor; his face writhed in pain as it slid like fire down his throat. When he had lost Satine the first time he had devoted himself to Absinthe, and now that he had as good as lost her again...

"No!" he screamed again, throwing the bottle to the ground, shattering it to pieces. "I won't turn into that bibulous wreck. I've got my life together for once, I can't ruin that."

He sank down into his bed, pulling the covers up above his head, and cried himself to sleep.

The next morning was pure hell for Satine. She woke to her son crying with aching muscles and a pounding headache; her throat was sore and irritating from all the coughing in the night, and her face was disgusting and dirty with tearstains. But worst of all, Zidler made it clear that he needed to talk to her, and that was never a good thing.

Marie took Christopher out to the park to get some fresh air so Satine could speak to Harold. He set her down at the kitchen table with some tea to help her with her head.

"I'm so sorry, Satine," he whispered.

"My name's Sarah," she muttered hoarsely.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, you know," he said.

"Doing what?" she shouted. "Trying to forget a past that is disgraceful? That I want nothing to do with?"

"No, you can't keep turning away from it! It is a _part_ of you and unless you face it, it will haunt you forever!"

"This is my life and I'll deal with it any way I want to," she snapped, taking a sip of her tea.

"There's something else you need to know." Zidler's voice was so quiet it was almost hissing with disaster, and Satine knew that whatever he was about to tell her was not good news.

"What ever it is I don't want to hear it," Satine said, standing up to leave.

"Satine, SIT DOWN!" Zidler yelled. She stopped in her tracks, so scared she was by his ferociousness. She turned her head slowly and whispered, "Yes, Harold?"

"I have had enough of this! After everything you put me through with the Duke, leaving me to find him another courtesan, another star of the show, you could at least sit here and listen to what I have to say! You can hide from your past, Satine, as much as you like, the decision is not mine, but you can't hide from everything! I lied to you, Satine, because you nearly put the Moulin Rouge down for good by leaving, and I hated you so much I felt there was something I needed to do." He faded off quietly and he sighed, looking down at the table guiltily.

"What are you talking about?" Satine asked hesitantly.

There was a moment of silence before Zidler looked up into Satine's face and said calmly, "Your daughter is not dead."

CRASH. The glass Satine had been holding went falling to the floor, but she didn't notice as the pain in her chest broke through sharply and bloody coughs consumed her. She grabbed her handkerchief and stifled the gasps as best she could, before trying desperately to talk.

"N-no, this—this can't be, can't be! She—she died, Harold! She's gone! Don't do this to me, don't put me through this, you know I can't handle it." She broke down in sobs and Zidler stood to comfort her, but she screamed and pushed him away, shaking her head wildly. "This can't be true! _This can't be true_!"

"_Think_ about it, Satine," said Zidler. "Christian thought you were dead, too, didn't he? It's possible, you know it is."

"Where is she? Where's my baby? I need to see her, give her to me!"

"You already have seen her," he whispered. "It's Christian's daughter."

This was all too much. She sat down on the floor, hugging her knees tightly, and cried. She cried even when Zidler left her alone, she cried when Christopher and Marie got back and her son had a fit to see his mother like that, and she just cried harder when Marie offered to bring Amour over.

The days soon passed and both Satine and Christian stayed in a complete state of melancholia. Neither left their homes and their children were forbidden to go anywhere; Satine silently ached to see Amour, but she would not give in to her feelings.

Christian tried to convince himself that he didn't need Satine. He had been a fool to think that love could ever work out; perhaps Satine had been right when she said that it only brought pain. But still...his heart ached for her every night and during the day his mind rarely strayed from her.

Marie and Zidler left a week later, their business done, and returned to the Moulin Rouge. After that, Christopher would sneak over to the shop some afternoons when his mother was sleeping. He said he missed Amour and thought it unfair that because the grownups were fighting, they had to be kept away from each other.

"And she keeps crying all the time," said Christopher one day over lunch. He had snuck over to see Amour and they were both listing everything that had gone wrong between their parents.

"She's going through a hard time," Christian muttered.

"But she keeps talking about her daughter, too," Christopher said. "Aunt Marie said that was because she found out that her baby's really alive."

"What?" Christian gasped. "She—she knows?"

The little boy nodded. "I haven't figured out who it is, yet."

"She's sitting right next to you, that's why!" Amour laughed. "Papa said that your mama was my mama. Isn't that right, Papa?"

Christian nodded silently. How come Satine hadn't come to see her daughter? Was she that selfish?

The children beginning to yell happily and discuss what they would do as brothers and sisters interrupted his thoughts, and Christian told them to go play in the backyard. He turned the open/close sign to close, and locked himself in his office. He was throbbing in anger and his whole body was shaking heavily. He clenched his hands and kicked over his desk in enragement, all the objects on top flying off onto the floor. He screamed and was about to knock over a lamp when he realized that what he was doing wouldn't help, that it wouldn't take away the past weeks or make everything better.

He sighed, looking out the window, and began to sing. "Once upon a time you whispered softly in my ear loving words and fairytales that I longed to hear. I gave you my body and soul and you took control as you slowly swept me up and carried me away." He walked over to a bookshelf where something had caught his eye, and found a brown rose, old and dead, which he must have forgotten to throw away after his special night with Satine. He threw it into the trash bin, not wanting a memory of the past reminding him of the perfect life he almost had. "You told me pretty lies as I held onto you tight. You knew how to get your way; ignorance was bliss in your warm embrace. Long ago you used to want me, now it's all so far away, but you still haunt me and take me back to yesterday." He stopped, looking at a photograph he had of Christopher and Amour on the shelf; Satine was faintly visible in the background, and he took the picture, ripping off the corner where she was showing. There, that was better, and he put it on the shelf. "Every now and then I drown in thoughts of yesterday, and the fools paradise that you blew away. I feel you beside me again and remember when you came to my window on a dark and stormy day. Baby, I need you now, tonight I'm crumbling down, sinking in memories, shadows of you keep washing over me."

He stopped singing abruptly. He wouldn't give in to his emotions; he would continue hating her with a burning and uncontrollable passion. He was about to go back into the shop when he heard a child's scream from the backyard.

A/N: Dun dun dun dun! What happens next? Ya have to wait! But I promise you that it's nothing good on Christian's part. Oh, and thank you reviewers for pointing out that I had Christian say Satine instead of Sarah. I'm so used to writing Satine I always have to go back and fix it. I did, though, so any new readers don't get the same mistake.

Special Thanks: to all the reviewers, you make me scream and cry and jump for joy every time I read one of your reviews!! Lol, it makes me so happy, you have no idea!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

'Long Ago' – Mariah Carey


	9. Broken Hearts, Broken Families

**L'amour Fou**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter IX – Broken Hearts, Broken Families

"Amour!" Christian cried, and ran out the office, through the shop, and into the backyard. "Amour!"

A police officer was standing in the yard, holding Christopher's hand, who was crying, and trying to grab Amour's hand. She screamed again and Christian ran over, taking her in his arms.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Christian shouted, trying to comfort his shaken daughter.

"Sir, we could do this calmly and reasonably or I could take you to jail," said the officer professionally. "Just hand me the little girl and we'll end it at that."

"Give you Amour? Why the hell would I give you my daughter?"

"You're the child's father?"

"Damn right I am!"

"Listen, we're just trying to bring her back to her mother, a Miss Sarah James."

Christian gasped. So _she_ was behind all this? She was trying to take away his last ounce of happiness in life? His heart began to beat faster and he thought to run, but knew that wouldn't help the matter. He cleared his throat and tried to speak reasonably, though the panic and anger was quickly rising. "Officer, this is one big mistake. _This is my daughter_. She has been with me since she was a week old, she belongs with me! Please, just bring Miss James's son home and let us be."

"The mother came to us and asked us to retrieve her child and I'm just doing my job. As mother, Miss James is the rightful guardian over the child and belongs in her care in her house."

"No!" Christian yelled. "No! Amour is _mine_, _mine_ I tell you! Her damn mother didn't even know her daughter was alive until just a few weeks ago!"

"Sir, please just listen to me and give me your daughter. I promise you nothing will happen to her or you if you just give me her." He showed handcuffs when he was saying that Christian wouldn't be harmed, and Christian knew he had no choice. He could hand her over and lose her, and he could fight for her, and still in the end lose her.

"Amour?" Christian asked gently, looking at his daughter's innocent face.

"Yes, Papa?" she sniffed.

"You know how you want to see Mama really bad?" Amour nodded. "Well, this nice man here is going to take you to her, okay? Is it all right if you stay with her for a bit?" Amour hesitated a moment but then nodded again. "I promise I'll come visit—"

"I'm afraid that's impossible," said the officer. "Miss James has requested to disallow you to be within ten yards of your daughter for eight months, and only then will you be allowed to see her every Sunday with a supervisor."

"What?" Christian whispered disbelievingly. Did Satine wish to torture him that much? "Are you crazy? Her mother lives across the damn street and you want me to constantly stay ten yards away?"

"I'm just following orders, you'll have to work that out with Miss James."

Christian opened his mouth to say something but Amour stopped him. "I can't see you for eight months, Papa? But that's forever!" She began to cry and threw her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer to him and rubbed her back.

"I promise everything will be okay, Amour," said Christian, and he began to cry as well. "I'll go to a lawyer, a police station, I'll do anything, but I promise I'll get you back. I promise, you hear? But for now you have to be a big girl for Papa and go with Christopher to his house. Just pretend like it's one big sleepover, okay?"

Amour nodded and rubbed her eyes, sniffing as the tears subsided. She kissed her father one last time before leaving his arms and taking the police officers hand.

"Mr. James, if you could now please go inside and collect your daughter's belongings, we'll wait here for you."

Christian nodded and trudged back inside and upstairs. He gathered everything of Amour's and put it in a suitcase, moving slowly and lazily, not believing any of this was really happening. It had to be a dream, it had to be! Satine was callous but she still had a heart.

When finished, Christian entered the backyard again and handed the officer Amour's suitcase. He looked at his little girl one last time and kissed her softly atop her hair, before dazedly watching them disappear into the alley.

Satine had been gasping and coughing when the police officer knocked on her door. She knew who it was, having visited the police station the day before, and forced her fit to stop. She wanted to give a good impression towards her daughter, since this would be their first meeting actually knowing whom the other was.

She opened the door and the police officer greeted her, explaining that Christian would have fought, but gave in for the sake of his daughter. He then handed both children over and Satine pulled them into a hug.

"Christopher, don't ever leave again without my permission, do you hear me?" she told her son when the officer had left. She then turned to her daughter, and saw her own eyes peer back at her. How could she not have noticed? "Hello, Amour."

"Hi," she said. "Can I call you Mama?"

"Of course!" Satine said with a watery smile as tears formed in her eyes. "I am your Mama, right? Would you like to come sit and talk with me? I'd love to know more about you."

Amour shook her head. "I wanna see Papa. I have to tell him that you said I can call you Mama."

Satine frowned and said, "Didn't the man who brought you here tell you that you can't see Papa for a while?"

"Uh huh," she nodded. "For eight months, but I thought he was just saying that. I knew you would make things better when I got here and take me to Papa. Right?"

Satine looked down guiltily but otherwise stayed silent. It was quiet for a moment until Christopher interrupted and said, "Mama, where will Amour sleep?"

Satine looked up, relieved she didn't have to answer Amour's question. "Well, for now she can sleep with you in your bed, and tomorrow we'll go into town and get her a new one."

"But why can't I sleep in my own bed at home?" said Amour, still not fully grasping the concept.

"This is your home," Satine insisted. "Don't you want to be with Mama?"

"Yeah, but I want Papa, too," she said. "Why can't we all live in one big house?"

"Well, Mama and Papa are grownups, and we have different lives that just don't go together."

"Then can Papa sleepover tonight, too? And then I can go home with him in the morning."

Satine sighed and muttered, "We'll see, okay? Christopher, why don't you go show Amour her new room?"

When they entered the bedroom and the door closed behind them, Satine cursed Christian loudly for everything. He had convinced her to love him twice now, and as she had told him before, both relationships ended horribly and with emotions running high. She sat on the sofa and looked out the window, and found Christian sitting on a swing beside the shop. She reached forward and touched the glass as if trying to soothe him for what she did, but no small gesture could ever stop his tears. Besides, she thought in her defense, Amour is my daughter and belongs with me; I had all the right to go and do what I did!

"But you didn't," she told herself, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. She looked out of the glass door leading to her balcony and slid it open slowly to be welcomed by the cool summer wind. "Amour is his daughter, too, and belongs to you both."

She walked outside, looking over the side of the balcony, and saw the beginning of town down below. She wished she lived in a nice home with a backyard where Christopher could play with Amour, but there would definitely be no such luck now that she had no job, because she certainly couldn't go back to the shop. Marie had left her some money, but it was only enough to live off of for a few weeks, maybe have a casualty or two, and soon that would run out and she would be left with nothing again.

"Mama!" Her son's call brought her back inside and she saw him and Amour looking out the window to where Christian was still seated.

"Christopher, get away from the window," she snapped.

"Mama, we were just looking at Papa," said Christopher.

"He is not your father, Christopher Toulouse James, and he never will be! Don't _ever_ let me hear you say that again!" Satine shouted.

"But, Mama, if Amour is my sister and we have the same mother, doesn't that mean we—"

"Don't say it, Chris, don't say it!" she warned, and the little boy shut his mouth.

At that moment Amour began to cry uncontrollably and Satine ran to her, pulling her into a hug. "Amour, what's wrong?" she asked worriedly. 

"Papa," she sobbed. "Why are you talking about him like that? He didn't do anything wrong!"

"You know that grownups fight sometimes, Amour, that's just the way things are. Now I want you two to go get ready for your bath. I'll be in to wash you."

Amour rubbed her eyes and ran off after Christopher towards the bathroom. Satine sighed and looked out the window where Christian's face was in his hands. She shook her head sadly but turned away.

Christian was crying freely. Sitting on the swing made all the happy memories of his daughter come back to him and he realized his worst nightmare had come true—his daughter was gone, taken away, and he wasn't aloud to see her for eight months. He had promised her that he would get her back, but that would be near impossible without the cooperation of Satine, and he was certainly even less willing than she probably was. He could get a lawyer but that would cause a commotion, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

What choices were left? None. He had no options. He was deprived of his Amour, his jem, his very sole purpose for living.

A/N: Wow, I feel like something really drastic is gonna happen soon but I don't know what. Lol, whatever. I'm starting to experience writer's block, and that's probably because I've written and posted seven chapters just this weekend, so I don't know when the next chapter's coming out, not to mention what's going to happen. I have an idea, but...I don't really like it, and I haven't decided whether Satine or Christian is going to do it. Anyways, that's all for now. Bye!!

Special Thanks: I LOVE YOU GUYS! You're the very reason I post all of these. Without your reviews, I probably would have shut this story down by now. I think this is the longest I've had a story up since I came to ff.n almost two years ago. Keep those reviews comin'!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

None


	10. Fleeing from a Nightmare

**L'amour Fou**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter X – Fleeing from a Nightmare

"Did you hear? Miss James took Mr. James' child!"

"Really? What ever for?"

"They had a one-night stand years ago and Sarah deserted her child."

"No!"

"Yes! And all of a sudden she just wanted the girl back!"

"Disgraceful, absolutely disgraceful..."

The rumors seemed to follow Christian everywhere. His business was falling and he hadn't seen Amour for two weeks. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, only cried day after day at what had been his life but was rapidly turning into a nightmare. He became thin and week, large bags formed under his eyes and his face went unshaved. He looked horrible and was falling into a state of depression and self-pity. He was becoming the one man he had refused to be: the drunken nothing in Hotel Blanche after the fateful night of Satine's death.

And yet Satine was not dead. She was just across the street, watching Christian carefully as he broke down to nothing, and trying to cheer Amour up at the same time.

Amour was unhappy and sad, always crying or asking for her father. Satine tried to deny it, but deep inside she knew that taking her away from Christian was the worst decision she had ever made. But Satine was not one to give into her feelings; she was stubborn and would keep Amour, keep Christian so depressed, anything to pretend that life was perfect.

Christopher was caught between emotions of everything. He was upset for Amour since she missed her father so but he was also happy that he had a sister, and who was living with him on top of that!

Money was no problem anymore, at least. The show "Spectacular, Spectacular!" had gone on, as Zidler said it would, and had a new star cast as the Hindu courtesan, also 'occupying' the Duke. It had made a breathtaking debut; a few weeks delayed because of the change of courtesan, it had made an incredible fortune for the Rouge. It kept as a theater ever since, and new plays came after another, written by their new writer. The club was making more and more money with every show; the Moulin Rouge was making thousands, and Marie selflessly sent Satine a sum of it every week. 

But still...there seemed not one happy face in the town of Bedford anymore. Summer was ending, being enveloped in dark rain clouds that loomed overhead. A storm was brewing.

Life continued on as normal, or as normal as it ever would be, with both Christian and Satine trying to pretend they had the perfect lives to keep from giving in to their true feelings. It was hard, much harder than even hiding their love from the Duke, but they tried twice as much. It may have been less difficult for Christian, though, because he still hated Satine; he despised her even more now that she took his daughter, and it was incredibly easy to keep his romantic feelings towards her subdued if all that showed was anger.

September came and the children started school again. Christian had no chance to try and sneak a meeting with Amour, as Satine walked them to school and was there to pick them up a half an hour before the day ended. But it was then that he started getting desperate to be near his daughter again, and his mind formulated all sorts of plans, day and night, in search of one close to perfection. He did try to get a lawyer, but was told he had a bad case, that it didn't sound good on his part that the mother hadn't seen her daughter for six years. He tried writing to Marie, maybe to see if she could convince Satine to give him Amour, but he never received a reply. He tried and thought, tried and thought, until there seemed no reasonable ideas left.

It wasn't until mid-October that he came up with anything again.

It was a rainy afternoon, as most of the days had been since the end of summer, and Christian had just finished closing the shop. There really wasn't much of a point for keeping it open anymore anyways, barely anyone seemed to stop in. He sat at the counter, having nothing else better to do, and pulled out some books from under the counter. There were some old books gathering dust after they had been placed there when the shelves began to overflow. Christian would sometimes read them when he grew bored or on days the shop was going slow, which was usually every day now.

He opened one called, 'Nightmares in England' and out fell an old, yellowing paper. And then he remembered, that letter of Satine's he had found the night after they proclaimed their love for each other. He opened it and read:

_Dear Satine,_

How long has it been since I last saw my precious Sparkling Diamond? Long enough, dear, and it's time I came to visit. By the time you read this, I'll be well on my way and arriving not soon after. Of course Harold insisted he come as well, but I'm afraid it's not for the same reasons. You know that we love you and want only the best for you, so we have been keeping a secret from you for some time, and I think it has come to the point where the truth needs to be told. No matter what, you know that I'll always love you.

_                                                                                                            -Marie_

Christian gasped. Satine had known? She had known that soon her secret would be out and ruin everything, and yet she had led him on and made him fall in love with her? He had found it the day after that special night, so she would have had to known even then... Every day he seemed to find a new reason to hate her even more.

He sighed and let it go, not exactly in the mood to start crying again. Instead he slid it under the counter and flipped to the back of 'Nightmares in England' to see the summary of the story. 

"Doesn't sound half bad," he muttered when he had finished reading it. It was about a drunk who had his daughter taken away from him because he couldn't care for her; but when she was taken away, he learned of his mistake and begged for her back. In the end he resulted to kidnapping her and running—

"That's it!" Christian cried suddenly, after thinking about the book in depth. He could kidnap Amour and run! Satine had ran away from her problems before, and why shouldn't he? He smiled for the first time in what seemed like forever and his mind set to work once again to perfect his plan.

A week went by since the night of 'Nightmares in England' and since then, the shop hadn't opened once and the door and display windows were boarded up. Satine grew curious at what was going on, but kept it at that, afraid she would finally fall in to what she was fighting against most. She shrugged it off, pretended it wasn't important.

But it was, one of the most important decisions that Christian had ever made. He worked endlessly, no longer slept or took care of his shop, just made everything perfect for that one night...

And then it came.

He was no longer cool or confident about what he was doing. His hands shook and he felt he was missing something, but tried to keep a steady mind. He grabbed his knapsack off of the counter, counting off the items. "Paper, check; pencil, check; alcohol fluid, check; matches, check; clothes, check; money, check. All set then."

The plan was beginning. He took out the alcohol fluid and splashed it everywhere; the office, the shop, the apartment, until it was all soaking and smelling of the liquid. He snuck out the back door and took out the matches, lighting one and watching _The Penniless Poet_, his pride and hard-work, burst into flames. He snuck up the alley and across the street, going quickly to Satine's apartment before anyone noticed the fire.

Knowing the door would be locked, Christian pulled out a key Satine had given him before the revealing of her identity, and softly clicked it in the lock and opened the door. He put it back in his pocket and took Satine's copy off of its hook on the wall, placing it on the floor in exactly the right place.

Then he took out the paper and pencil and scrawled in his best child-like script, 'Went to Papa.' He placed it on the counter and slinked into the children's bedroom. It was neat and orderly with two beds, and from the light of the moonlight, he found Amour and picked her up quietly. She stirred, but Christian rubbed her head and hushed her as he made his way out.

Everything was perfect. He left; leaving the door ajar, so with the letter and the key on the floor, Satine would think Amour had gone to the shop to see him. The fire started...the little girl and father inside...both dead. He could see the front-page headlines now.

Satine would be heart broken but a heartless arse like her deserved nothing better, Christian defended himself as he walked swiftly to the train station. He had thought about taking Christopher, too, but realized that was just as cruel as Satine taking away Amour.

"Two, please," said Christian when he reached the ticket booth. He paid and took the tickets, boarding the train as quickly as possible. People would be starting to take notice of the fire just about then, and Christian dreamed of Satine's horrid face when she registered what happened; but it was not with a happy heart that he slept.

But what was done was done. The storm was gone, there would only be peace from now on, or so Christian hoped. He had fled from a nightmare that was tearing him to pieces, and yet he couldn't help but feel like this ruined his life even more.

Besides, where would he go? What would he do? He would think about it in the morning.

A/N: Well...glad that's done with. It wasn't as good as I hoped, but I tried. Dunno what's gonna happen next. Wait, yes I do, never mind.

Special Thanks: Reviewers, I love you guys! You make me so happy. J I read each and every one of your reviews, and I get so happy and I cry when I hear your great feedback!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

None – in the next chapter, though, I promise


	11. Crying in the Rain

**L'amour**

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter XI - Crying in the Rain

"Mama! Mama!"

Satine groaned and turned over to see her six-year-old son tugging on her nightgown.

"What is it, Christopher?" she said, still not fully awake.

"Amour is gone, she's not in bed!" he said worriedly, and Satine sat straight up in a rush.

"What do you mean she's not in bed?"

"She's gone, Mama, and this note was on the counter." He handed her a slip of paper and she read it hurriedly before jumping out of bed. She threw on her robe and rushed out of the apartment, mentally noting that the door was already partly open; but she had no time to think as she ran down the three flights of stairs and out into the street.

Of all the things that had happened since May, none could compare to what Satine witnessed next. The shop was on fire, falling and creaking under the consuming flames, and a big crowd of people was gathered in the street, unable to do anything.

"What are you doing?" Satine screamed, running in front of the crowd. Her black hair glowed red from the flames and her eyes lightened from all the tears, and for a moment the town of Bedford saw the true Satine, the Satine that had fled from Montmartre in want of a new life. "What are you doing?" she shouted again, breaking the image. "Get some help! Put out the flames! Please, do anything! Help me!"

Mrs. Gerber stepped forward with tears in her eyes. "There is nothing we can do, dear. It is too out of hand."

"But my daughter is in there!" she yelled. "My daughter and Christian are in there, we need to save them!"

"I told you, Sarah," Mrs. Gerber said quietly. "The fire is too big, we would never make it."

Satine shook her head, pushing away from the old lady. "NO! WE HAVE TO HELP THEM, WE HAVE TO!"

She was answered by a loud groan from the house behind her, and a moment later, the whole shop came crashing down into a huge, flaming wreck. She began to scream and she felt someone pull her into a hug. Looking down she saw Christopher trying to comfort her; he didn't know what was happening.

"It's okay, Mama," he said. "Christian can get a new shop."

Amour yawned, stirring from her deep slumber. She reached over for her nightstand but instead felt something soft and squishy. Still keeping her eyes closed, she felt her way upward and came to something hairy.

"Christopher?" she whispered. There was a slight shuffle in whatever it was and Amour's eyes snapped open to come face to face with Christian. "Papa!" she exclaimed, causing him to wake with a start.

"Good morning, Amour," he smiled. 

"Papa, I've missed you so much!" She threw her arms around his neck and Christian held her tightly; how good it felt to have his little girl in his arms again.

"I'm so sorry I had to take you away from Mama," he said, when she had sat down in her seat again, "but she might never have let me see you again if I didn't."

"That's okay," Amour reassured him. "She couldn't tell stories that good anyway."

"That well," Christian corrected with a laugh, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Would you like to hear a new story?"

Amour flashed a brilliant smile and nodded, climbing onto her father's lap and getting comfortable.

"Well," said Christian, "there was once this evil witch who disguised herself as a princess, and she made this prince fall in love with her and made him believe that she loved him, too...."

Satine was gasping and coughing, her body shaking and her mouth dripping with blood. Mrs. Gerber had taken Christopher back to the apartment and was putting him to bed, but Satine found she couldn't move. The crowd had slowly departed as the rain started and the fire began to extinguish, and she was left to her guilty thoughts as she silently cried in the storm.

The house was now fully destroyed; it was a heap of ashes and burnt wood, steaming, hissing, creaking in the cool night. So that was it, as quick as Satine took away Amour, fate had taken away her daughter and the love of her life. At least before Christian had been there just across the street, close enough for her to watch him and love him at a distance, but how could she ever do that with him now only in her heart?

Satine jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up expectantly for Christian, momentarily forgetting he was gone forever.

But it was only Mrs. Gerber, her white hair turning gray from the rain. "Come on then, deary, let's get you out of the rain." With the old woman's help, Satine somehow made it to her apartment and was laid down by the landlord. Mrs. Gerber hobbled out of the room and returned a little while after with a cup of tea. She handed Satine the drink and sat on the side of the bed, patting Satine's hand placatingly.

"Don't worry, Sarah," she said quietly. "I believe God has a reason for everything he does, even if it breaks the hearts of others."

"To hell with that," Satine cried. "If only I hadn't been so selfish and taken his child, maybe none of this would have happened."

"Nonsense! She is your daughter, too, and you just wanted custody over her."

"Of course, but—oh, this is going to sound horrible, but I mostly wanted to anger and hurt him in a way that I would never have been able to done myself."

"Well, perhaps that isn't the best thing one could say, but we're only human after all. Besides, who is to say that what you did caused the fire? The gas stove probably had been left on, or a candle fell. Even if Amour had been there anyway, she still would have passed on. If this is how it must be, then this is how it must be. It is all a part of God's plan."

"Plan? _Plan!_" Satine shouted, the tears falling harder. "This seems like one damn plan to ruin my life!"

"Maybe, maybe not. But it is a bad plan that it can't be changed."

Satine groaned, her body aching and her mind tangled in dark thoughts. "What have I done, what have I _done_? I've killed two of the most important people in my life...."

It was odd that at that moment, when to her all the world seemed at a lost and Christian and Amour were gone, that she gave into her feelings; she loved Christian, there was no doubt about it, and no perfect life did she live. It was all one big mess that she seemed to wreck even more with every day she lived.

Christian and Amour stepped off the train into London that night at nine o'clock, which was perfect since Amour was already in her pajamas. They had been on the train for nearly twelve hours and their bodies ached from sitting for so long, and Amour nearly slept as she walked, so tired she was.

Christian carried his one small bag and led Amour to a reasonable hotel where they could spend the night until he figured out what they could do. He paid for the room and carried his daughter up the stairs to the apartments, placing her in bed as soon as they stepped in. But he was unable to sleep.

He had no doubt any longer that what he did was wrong, but wasn't what Satine had done equally horrible? He flinched in guilty pain when he imagined what she would go through....

"I'm not sure where I belong," he sang, looking out the window at the moon, the same moon Satine was probably crying under at that very moment... "No where's home and I'm all wrong, and I wasn't all the things I tried to make believe I was." He closed his eyes tightly to keep away the tears before climbing into bed with his clothes on. "And all the talk and all the lies were all the empty things disguised as me...."

A/N: Second to last chapter. The next and final chap. is the epilogue. But don't worry, there will be a sequel...I think.

Special Thanks: Thanks reviewers! You've made this whole experience even more enjoyable for me!! LOVE YOU GUYS!!

Translations:

None

Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Moulin Rouge or any of its affiliates. If I did I certainly wouldn't be here whining about it.

I don't own the songs either:

'That-little-song-at-the-end-that-I-don't-know-what-it's-called-I-only-found-it-online' – Someone-who-I-don't-know-but-give-full-credit-to.'


	12. Apart Again (Epilogue)

****

L'amour Fou

by A.L.S.O.

Chapter XII - Apart Again (Epilogue)

Christopher asked constantly where Christian and Amour were, but Satine never gave a direct answer. What would she tell him? She couldn't just say that they were gone forever, because not even she could yet accept it, and she couldn't lie to him or tell him anything that wouldn't actually happen.

Everything became clear, though, when the day of their funeral came. It was a bright, sunny day that aggravated Satine when she woke up, almost as if the whole world was happy despite her mood. She found Christopher playing on the balcony and told him to go dress in his best black suit. He obeyed, not whining or asking questions, almost as if he knew what was happening. He soon found out whether he did or not, when Satine took him in a carriage to the Bedford Graveyard.

There assembled the whole town in front of two coffins; one was smaller and a reddish wooden color, and the other was bigger and black. The smaller had a black-and-white picture of Amour and the bigger held one of Christian, both resting on easels behind the coffins.

It was then that both Satine and Christopher knew that it was real: Christian and Amour were gone. Christopher cried and Mrs. Gerber took him in her arms, carrying him away from her mother, who was kneeled on the ground in silent tears.

Of course no bodies were recovered from the fire, and each townsperson was to bring an object that reminded them of the deceased. Some brought photographs, books, toys, anything that might be special to them; for Amour, Satine brought a jump rope, what her daughter had been playing with the first time she laid eyes on her after six years. As for Christian, she brought an old copy of the transcript of "_Spectacular, Spectacular_!" which had brought them together in the first place. Christopher picked some flowers, explaining to Mrs. Gerber that just like flowers would be around forever, Christian and Amour would never leave his heart.

The day of the funeral, Satine was a sobbing wreck of tears, blood, and coughing.

Christian was only at the hotel for not even three days when he realized that they couldn't stay there any longer. His money was running fast and the apartment's living conditions were poor, and yet still no plan came to him. His only so-called 'friends' were his father's businessmen's sons, who only wanted to discuss politics and talk about the future; you could rarely ever actually find a true Bohemian in England.

Christian's father was living close by, but they never exactly got along, especially after his mother died a few years before he left for Montmartre. He did have siblings, nine sisters to be exact, but only one was old enough to have moved away from the house, and that was Jessica, almost a Boho herself.

Christian didn't know why he hadn't gone there in the first place, but when he knocked on Jessica's door and a bibulous man answered, it suddenly became very apparent. Her husband, Jonathon, was anything but likable; he was fat and disgusting, always drinking and eating and never allowing his wife any fun. The only reason she married him was to get away from her home and overbearing father. But Christian had manners and gave a simple nod as a hello.

"Well, whaddya know!" Jonathon said loudly. "It's the gay brother from Paris!"

Christian rolled his eyes. Jonathon thought he was gay because he was in to poetry and writing; it wasn't his fault he was a hopeless romantic. "Is Jessica here?" he asked, keeping his anger suppressed.

"JESS!" Jonathon yelled into the house. "Get your arse out here!"

Christian flinched at the treatment of his sister, and clenched his hands into fists to keep from punching the huge face in front of him. A moment later, a girl with curly black hair, looking like an exact, but feminine, replica of Christian, appeared in the doorway, yelling at Jonathon.

"What did I tell you about cursing at me? I swear, Jon, one more time and I'll have you thrown out, I—" She stopped abruptly when she saw the visitor, and squealed in excitement, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, Christian, I've missed you! You've been gone forever!"

Christian smiled and hugged her . "I've missed you, too," he said, pulling away to get a good look at his sister. "Wow, the last time I saw you, you were only sixteen years old!"

"I know, I've grown up!" Jessica laughed. "And God, so have you! _Look at you_!" But this wasn't exactly a compliment, and they both knew it. He was still as handsome as ever, but his eyes were deprived of their naïve sparkle and childhood dreams. He looked all in all...dead.

Jonathon rolled his eyes and stormed back inside. Christian gave one look at him before shrugging.

"Ignore him," said Jessica. "What's wrong, darling?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Christian muttered.

"Whatever it was, it did you good," she said, looking at his solemn face. "But enough about that, we can get some hot cocoa and talk about the 'horrible Montmartre'." She laughed and took Christian's hand to lead him inside, but he didn't budge.

"Hold on," he said. He looked behind him nervously then stepped aside to reveal a little girl. "Jessica, this is Amour. Amour, this is Aunt Jessica."

"Hello," said Amour with a charming smile.

"Who is—is she—is she yours?" Jessica said in bewilderment.

"Yes, all mine," Christian smiled, pulling his daughter up in his arms. "She's my little Amour." He kissed her on her cheek and led her inside.

Satine was desperate to make the right decision for once. She had the choice of staying in Bedford and mourning over Christian and Amour for the rest of her life, and then she had the choice of leaving, to go some place where the memories didn't haunt her. Christopher moped around the house and was starting to do poorly in school, always choosing to stay silent and unsociable.

Yes, Satine decided, it was time to go. After two months she had enough of looking out the window and seeing no shop, just to constantly be reminded of those burning flames that had killed two of the three loves in her life. One day when Christopher awoke, rubbing and yawning with sleepiness, he walked into the living room to see three suitcases packed and Satine waiting patiently with his jacket.  
  
"Mama?" he inquired.  
  
"C'mon, Christopher," Satine said gently. "It's time to go." She held out his coat and helped him slip it on before handing him some toast for breakfast, grabbing the suitcases, and leaving the apartment.  
  
They took a train to the one other home Satine had ever known: Montmartre.  
  
  
The day of Christian's arrival at Jessica's was a depressing one; he reminisced the story of Satine and his and explained it to his sister, and by the end of the day, she was nearly feeling his pain as much as he was.  
  
It was agreed that Christian and Amour could stay there as long as they wanted, and Christian promised that he would look for a house and a job first thing in the morning, though Jessica assured him there was no rush. She almost begged Christian to stay to keep her company and away from Jonathon.  
  
That night Christian tucked Amour into bed, as happy as he had ever been since he fell in love with 'Sarah.' He sighed with content as he watched her from the doorway, sleeping easily as her small chest rose and fell in time with her breathing. She stirred for a moment and let out several tiny coughs; Christian took nothing of it, but perhaps that was because he didn't notice the small drops of blood that had fallen on Amour's hand.  
  
  
And so ends the tale. As in most stories of love, there is no perfect ending, with bliss and ecstasy, with no rain and only clear skies and utopian days ahead. There is hurt and anger and powerful feelings that domineer the lovers and cause them to do things they'll never forgive themselves or each other for committing.  
  
Yet deep inside those callous hearts, those aching minds, there is a love so strong that it is bound to one day overcome. In the end, love truly does conquer all, even if it is only l'amour fou.

A/N: Well...guess that's the end of that, hm? I think I'm gonna miss writing this story, but never fear, the sequel is near!! Lol, well it's not near but I have started on it. BTW, congrats Moulin Rouge for winning Best Musical Sequence and Best Actress (I think those were it) at the MTV Movie Awards!! Sorry about losing best kiss, but you guys still did awesome!

Dedicated: This is to all of my reviewers. I can't even begin to tell you how much your reviews mean to me and these twelve chapters are all for you guys! Thank you so much!

Disclaimer: yada yada…


	13. Note to Readers!!

Note to readers:

I love Moulin Rouge so much, but I've decided to end my writing. No more of Our Turn to Sing. I deleted it. I'm so sorry everyone, I really am! But I've recently found an MR message board and I've devoted my time completely to that. I do have a new story going over there, though. Please visit the board, and maybe even my story. Um, to sum it up, my story starts years after Satine and Christian flee Montmartre, but they don't love each other anymore. They share a son, but he lives with Satine and her new husband. Christian also has moved on with someone new, and the new couple move into the same town as Satine and her family. Sound familiar? Well, it is. Their son is even named Christopher. It's basically the struggle between Satine and Christian to try and suppress any old feelings that pop up, and to be able to live their lives as if the others presence doesn't bother them. Only, things go completely awry, and I'm sure you can guess what happens next.

The story is called Dreaming of Love and at the board I'm known as ALoveStory. It is an AMAZING board with absolutely brilliant people; they're fun, funny, nice, sweet, kind, and anything else you could ever imagine. They even have "conventions" where MR fans get together and meet in real life. And don't worry, I've even talked to one on the phone and given her my phone number; they're not 70 year old stalkers trying to rape you.

Oh, and one more reason I'm deleting OTtS. I don't get any fun out of it anymore. I feel compelled to write it; I want to want to write it! Lol, but seriously. The story wasn't compatible with L'amour Fou. I totally forgot what I wrote in that one so OTtS was hard to write. Sorry again.

The link to the board: http://pub82.ezboard.com/bmoulinrouge15657

Love always,

Amanda

P.S. and maybe one day I'll start writing OTtS again. You never know!


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